


The Hour of Separation

by Verilidaine



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Convenient Timey-Wimey Plot Devices, Grieving, Interspecies Relationship, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Past Non-Con, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:03:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: Going through 700 space jumps does more than make for an unpleasant trip.  When they can’t break back into regular space-time, Rocket, Yondu, Kraglin, and Groot have to figure out how to survive a ship slowly shifting into another time dimension.  At the same time, Rocket and Yondu try to navigate this thing between them that they never expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a fix-it. It’s probably not going to make you feel any better at the end. But this bunny just ate me alive, so here we go. All the sciencey stuff is 100% made up and designed as an obvious plot device to further the story, fair warning. It’s a fairly self-indulgent piece of writing (why does this pairing not exist???) so I’m not looking for constructive criticism on it, just a piece I wrote because I wanted to. 
> 
> The soundtrack this was written to: 
> 
> _Whatever It Takes_ by Imagine Dragons  
>  _2U_ by David Guetta and Justin Bieber  
>  _1-800-273-8255_ by Logic, Alessia Cara, and Khalid  
>  _First Time_ by Kygo and Ellie Goulding  
>  _Swish Swish_ by Katy Perry and Nicki Minaj  
>  _Now Or Never_ by Halsey  
>  _Bad At Love_ by Halsey  
>  _Quit (feat. Ariana Grande)_ by Cashmere Cat and Ariana Grande  
>  _Thunder_ by Imagine Dragons  
>  _Hurts So Good_ by Astrid S

“--Wait.  Fight a _what?_ ”  
  
“Uh, Cap’n...”  
  
“What is it, Kraglin?” Yondu asked.  
  
“We don’t ... seem to be moving.  Thrusters are on full, but...”  
  
Rocket frowned and headed back towards the console.  He climbed up onto the seat to get a better look at the readings on their positions, right next to Yondu.  He could _feel_ how close the Ravager captain was, still feel his heart pounding and the wetness at the corner of his eyes.  Yondu was looking at the controls.  “Planet’s right there, what’s the problem?”  
  
Rocket shook himself and looked at their speed, then pulled up engine reports, which all seemed to confirm that they should, indeed, be approaching the planet.  “Ah, crap,” he said, punching in a few test fires.  Nothing happened, so he reversed their direction, then jumped down to run to the viewport and looked down.  Thrusters had engaged and were firing, but just a short ways from the ship, the particles looked frozen.  “We’re stuck,” he said.  Kraglin came over to look out, squinting at the strange display.    
  
“Stuck?  You better get us un-stuck, rat, Quill is down there and if he ain’t realized what he’s up against he might still be alive.”  
  
Rocket cringed.  “I can’t get us un-stuck, but it don’t matter.  We’re stuck in a time bubble.  Time’s barely moving out there.  By the time we get out, few seconds will’ve passed for them.”  
  
“I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket tilted his head.  “Actually yeah, exactly like that.”  
  
“So how long we gonna be here?” Yondu demanded, striding over.    
  
“Can’t say,” Rocket said, scratching the back of his neck.  He hated unknowns.  “A day, a month, a year--”  
  
“A _year?_ ”  
  
“Well I don’t know, I’ve never done this before!  We went through too many jumps, now we gotta slow back down.”  
  
“We ain’t movin’.” Yondu spoke through gritted teeth.  
  
“Our molecules need to slow back down,” Rocket said.  “It’s like Groot said.  You ever see a bug float on water?  They’re too small to break the surface tension.  That’s like us right now, we can’t break back into normal space-time.”  
  
There was a beat of silence.  Kraglin was staring at him and looked a little ill.  Yondu was still frowning and looking at the stormy planet below.    
  
“We gonna age?” Yondu asked.  
  
“No idea,” Rocket said.  “Ain’t exactly been studied much, mostly it’s just a theory and pirates’ tales.”  
  
“What happens if another ship comes through that jump?” Kraglin asked.  
  
Rocket looked up at Yondu.  He could see the tendons pulsing in the man’s jaw.  “Better hope it doesn’t.”

* * *

Rocket found Yondu in the mess later, taking inventory of their food supplies.  “Don’t forget Groot,” he said.  
  
“What’s a tree s’posed to eat?”  
  
“Fertilizer.  I can make some, but I’ll need whatever organic stuff you’ve got in there.”  
  
“Fine, it’s his,” Yondu said.  “Help me count.”  
  
Rocket joined him. “Think we’ll have enough?”  
  
“Can already tell we’ll be fine for a while,” Yondu said.  “Could’ve been a lot worse.  Good thing suspicious folk kept this section supplied.”  
  
“It can always be worse,” Rocket said.  He held up an unmarked packet, frowning at it.  A careful sniff told him it was stale, but edible, whatever kind of grain it was.  He tossed it into a pile with the other grains, and grabbed the next packet.  “Alright, chuckles,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Yondu.  “Now that we’ve got a bit more time on our hands, you’re gonna tell me what’s up with Ego and why you didn’t deliver Quill.”  
  
“I told you,” Yondu said.  “Skinny kid, good for thievin’.”  
  
“Yeah, you don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?  Even if he was skinny he wasn’t gonna stay that way long.  And there’s plenty of species skinnier than his that wouldn’t grow out of it and would probably be a lot less likely to get you mutinied against.” Rocket tapped one claw against the table.  “You might just need me, so if I were you, I’d think about answering some of my questions.”  
  
Yondu looked at him, then nodded.  “Guess it all started when Ego asked me to deliver him a kid.”

* * *

When Yondu was finished his tale about Ego, Ego’s offspring, and Quill, along with his subsequent exiling from the Ravager clans, Rocket plopped down in a chair with a low whistle.    
  
“Yeah,” Yondu said.  
  
“You know, Quill still thinks it was ‘cause your Ravagers wanted to taste Terran.”  
  
“What?” Yondu stared at him.  “That was a joke!”  
  
Rocket snorted.  “You know Quill ain’t the brightest.  But that’s what he thinks.  Literally thinks he was abducted to be food.”  
  
“I couldn’t exactly let him know he was half-god,” Yondu said. “You’ve met him.”  
  
“Oh, I’m with you on that one,” Rocket said.  “And even I can’t believe he didn’t figure out that a buncha Ravagers didn’t meander on over to Terra for a midnight snack.  But really, eating?”  
  
“It was bein’ funny,” Yondu muttered.  
  
“Sure,” Rocket said.  “And I can reach every cabinet in here without standing on a chair.”  
  
“Rat...”  
  
Rocket growled at him.  “If we’re gonna be stuck here for a while, you’ll want to not call me a rat.”  
  
“It’s _my_ ship.”  
  
“And I’m your best shot of getting it out of here in one piece,” Rocket said.  “So don’t push me.”  
  
Yondu lifted his hands up.  “Fine.  So what’re you thinking we’ll have to do?”  
  
“Well I thought about tryin’ to rig something to see our molecules and guess when we’ll get out,” Rocket said.  “But everything in here is moving at the same speed so that probably won’t work.  We gotta make sure it’s all speeding up at the same rate.”  Rocket scratched behind his ear.  “Somehow.  Still working on it. Ship could get torn in half if it isn’t even.  And we’ll probably have no warning. We should get something stocked with ammo too, for whenever we’re heading down.  And if we need to bail.”  
  
“I’ll get Kraglin on it,” Yondu said.  “Got a good little piece in storage, it’s good for bein’ stealthy.  You’ll have to attach some guns, it don’t got any right now.”  
  
“Just point me in the right direction.”

* * *

Yondu found him later, as he was trying to figure out how to weld a gun onto a craft that had never been designed to carry them without harming its structural integrity.  “Whaddya need?” Rocket asked.  
  
“Kinda hopin’ you can get this tree to keep outta trouble.”  
  
Rocket paused, then dropped down from the ship and looked up to see Yondu holding Groot out.  “Groot,” he said, shaking his head.  “Leave the man alone.”  
  
“I am Groot!”  
  
“He likes your arrow, he hopes you’ll use it again.”  
  
Yondu snorted.  “Not in here, I hope.”  
  
Rocket pinched the bridge of his nose.  “C’mere, Groot.  You can help me get the tools I need.”  
  
Yondu’s shoulders shook in a small laugh and he grinned.  “I hope he’s better at tools than fins.”  
  
Rocket smirked in answer.  “Not really.  But he likes to help.”    
  
“Go on, twig,” Yondu said, and Groot climbed down his arm and ran over to Rocket.  Rocket held an arm out for him to climb up onto his shoulder.   Yondu watched them for a few moments, then shifted.  “Listen, ‘bout earlier...”  
  
Rocket frowned at him.  He didn’t need to ask which earlier Yondu was referring to.  “We don’t gotta talk about earlier,” he said.  
  
“Yeah,” Yondu said.  “You two just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”  
  
“That, I can do.”  
  
Yondu left the way he’d come and Groot tugged on Rocket’s fur once he was out of sight.  “I am Groot.”  
  
“No I’m not going to talk to him,” Rocket growled, climbing back up to his rigging.  
  
“I am Groot!”  
  
“Yeah, and?  Who cares if he has a sad story?  He ain’t the only one.”  
  
“I am _Groot_.”  
  
Rocket scowled, grabbed a wrench, and started working on attaching the brackets for the gun.  

* * *

 All four of them gathered on the bridge later.  Rocket was still covered with grease from his work and desperate for some kind of shower, but it would have to wait.  Yondu handed him a packet of rations, then handed Kraglin one of the same.    
  
“What about you?” Rocket asked, and Yondu held his hands up, shaking his head.    
  
“If we’re here for a year, it’s gonna get thin,” Yondu said.  “I’m used to low rations.”  
  
Rocket eyed him, but nodded and dipped his claws into the mush, then pulled them out and licked off the warm grain mix.  “So we need to talk schedules,” he said.  
  
“What for?” Kraglin asked.    
  
“Someone should always be up here, watching the systems,” Rocket said.  “In case something starts to go wrong.  Ain’t exactly just orbiting here.  We start to return to normal space, we could get torn up if something goes wrong.  I’m thinking we break a solar cycle into six shifts, time ‘em out.  That way we can keep track of the days, too.”  
  
“So two shifts to sleep, two shifts to work, two shifts at watch,” Yondu summarized.  “We can do that.”  
  
“Whatever you want,” Kraglin said.  “Just tell me when and what I should look for.”  
  
“Right,” Rocket said, and tapped on the controls.  He pushed the view forward so the other two could see what he was doing.  “My biggest concern is that planet’s gravity affecting different parts of our hull at different times.  Seems to me like we could return to normal space at different rates depending on the material.  So look for hull pressure.”  He tapped through a series of menus until an image of the ship showed up with a color map representing the hull pressure readings.  “Anything turns not green, call me.  Or if anything else looks weird.  Or if anything moves, really.”  
  
“Got it,” Kraglin said.  
  
“I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket shook his head.  “That’d be nice, but I bet it won’t go that easy.  Never does.”  
  
Groot looked up at him and crossed his arms.  “I am Groot,” he said, lifting his chin.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Wassat?” Yondu asked.  
  
“He wants to take a shift,” Rocket said.  “You’re too little, Groot.  And you don’t know how to fly this thing.”  
  
“I am Groot,” Groot pointed out.  
  
“Just because you can grow longer arms doesn’t mean you can fly a ship,” Rocket said, and scooped him up, setting him on his shoulder.  “Look, you stay with me for my shifts and I’ll teach you, that fair?”  
  
“I am Groot!”


	2. Chapter 2

It took Rocket less than a day to get the smaller ship equipped with exterior weapons and its engine tuned.  With that done, he took inventory of the weapons they had--three times--and stuffed them into all the possible compartments he could find.  When they went down to Ego, they were going in guns blazing.  He wished he had more of his tools from the Milano, but he would have to make do with whatever he could find in this junkyard.  
  
“Your ship kinda sucks, you know,” he said, when he heard footsteps from behind.  
  
“Don’t y’ ever sleep?” Yondu asked, walking over.  
  
“Eh.  Too much to do,” Rocket said.  He gestured at the piles around him, pilfered from all over the ship and dragged back to the cargo bay to be tuned up.  “How does this piece of junk even fly?”  
  
Yondu put his hands on his hips and looked around.  “Given how many parts you’ve removed from ‘er, I don’t really know.”  
  
Rocket snorted.  “If we’re here long enough you’ll have the best craft this side of the galaxy.”  
  
“Not much on this side of the galaxy,” Yondu said.  “Where’s the twig?”  
  
“Sleeping,” Rocket said.  “At least, what he does for sleeping.”  
  
Yondu sat down next to him.  “At least one of you does,” he said.  “Can I help?”  
  
Rocket tilted his head at the Ravager captain.  “Know much about engines?”  
  
“Enough to fix my own damn ship,” Yondu said, frowning at him.  He looked around and picked up a small compressor.  “Might not know what this is called in educated talk but I know where it goes and what it does and what it’s called in every backwater shop in the galaxy.”  
  
“Good enough,” Rocket said.  He got up and pulled over part of an engine that was still assembled.  “Good parts go over here, everything else goes over there.”  
  
“You just want me to take it apart?” Yondu demanded.  
  
“When the starting product is this bad, it’s the only thing to do.”  
  
“I know you’re not insulting my ship,” Yondu said.  
  
Rocket smirked.  “Only parts of it.”  
  
Yondu looked at him, then grinned, and started to laugh. 

* * *

Rocket rubbed his eyes, then yawned, but kept his focus on the viewport and the planet ahead of them.  It was strange to see the clouds still frozen in place, even after what they had calculated as a week had passed for them.  
  
Groot stirred on his shoulder, roused by the movement, and looked out.  “I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket sighed.  “I hope so, buddy,” he said.  “We’ll be ready, though.”  
  
The door to the bridge opened behind him and Rocket’s ears turned back for long enough to recognize Kraglin’s steps.    
  
“My turn,” Kraglin said, sitting down at the port controls.  “Anything happening?”  
  
“Nothing,” Rocket said.  He jumped down and stretched.  “Need anything before I go?”  
  
“Nah,” Kraglin said, pulling up the hull pressure display and settling in.  Rocket nodded and stretched and was almost out of the bridge when Kraglin spoke again.  “Hey, Rocket?”  
  
Rocket stopped and turned around.  “Yeah?”  
  
Kraglin wasn’t looking up, but he had turned the chair towards them.  “Just wanted to say thanks, to you an’ Groot.  For helping the Cap’n get outta there.  I wasn’t ... I was a coward.”  
  
Rocket’s ears flicked and he shifted.  “You were trying to stay alive.  No one’s gonna fault you for that.  Wouldn’t’a been possible without you in the end.”  
  
“Yeah,” Kraglin said.  “Guess I just needed to see the little guy tryin’.  Anyway.  Thanks, ‘s all.  Little guy too.”    
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said, with a yawn, from where he was curled around Rocket’s neck.    
  
“He says you’re welcome,” Rocket said.  Kraglin finally looked up, nodded to them, and Rocket tilted his head forward in answer before leaving.    
  
He headed to the bay with their getaway ship, careful not to rouse Groot.  He picked his way through the scattered parts that he was still sorting through, and was almost to the toolbox Groot rested in when the little tree started moving.  “I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket sighed.  “You really should sleep.”  
  
“I am Groot.”  
  
“Fine, you can watch me for a little while.  Then bed.”  
  
“I am Groot!”  
  
“I will sleep when I want to,” Rocket told him.  “You’re a growing tree, so you don’t get a choice.”  
  
Groot frowned at him, but said nothing as Rocket settled down with his current project.  The odds of this entire ship making it out unscathed were slim, but he needed something to think about that wasn’t, well, everything else.  So engine upgrades it was.  
  
“I really am starting to wonder if you ever sleep.”  
  
Rocket startled at the voice and realized he’d been staring at the gear in his hands without doing anything, and twisted around to scowl at Yondu.  “It’s rude to sneak up on people.”  
  
“Shouldn’t be able to sneak up on you,” Yondu said.  “I ain’t seen you sleep since y’ got here.  ‘S not healthy.”  
  
“I know what I can take,” Rocket said.  “I’m fine, I don’t need as much sleep.”  
  
By his side, Groot stood up and pointed at him, while looking at Yondu.  “I am Groot!”  
  
Yondu tilted his head, looking between them.  “Twig says you’re lyin’.”  
  
Rocket snorted.  “How do you know what he’s saying?”  
  
“I am Groot!” Groot said proudly.  
  
“Don’t need to understand the words to understand that,” Yondu said.    
  
“Yeah, well, it’s none of your business.”  
  
“When my life, my first mate’s life, and Quill’s life are probably in your hands, it is my business,” Yondu said.  “You don’t start sleeping, Imma figure out how to drug you to.”  
  
" _What?_ ” Rocket stood and turned with a snarl, and took a step forward, but a vine wrapping around his wrist and squeezing stopped him.  He looked down, and saw Groot looking back with wide eyes.  
  
“I am Groot.”  
  
“Groot...”  
  
“So what is it?” Yondu asked.  “Nightmares?  Pain?  We got somethin’ for it all.”  
  
Rocket felt frozen, looking at Groot’s pleading expression, feeling the vines tighten around his arm.  “I...”  He swallowed, and lowered his gaze.  “Don’t sleep much,” he muttered, and Groot squeezed harder.  “Since Groot got small.  Didn’t sleep much ‘fore I met him, haven’t been able to much since then.”  He felt his face heating, and Groot’s grip loosened.  A gentle vine covered with leaves ran down his arm.  
  
Yondu said nothing.  Rocket waited for the laugh, or the bark to get over it, but as the silence dragged on, he finally chanced a glance up.  The Ravager captain jerked his head.  “C’mon,” he said, and turned on his heel.  
  
Rocket hesitated, but a small push from Groot made him walk and he followed after Yondu with head and ears lowered, tail dragging on the ground.  Yondu stopped at a door and punched in a code.  “Get in,” he said.  
  
Rocket stepped in, then stopped, looking around.  A small quarters, with a bed that had been recently used.  “What’s...”  
  
Yondu started taking off his coat.  “Get in bed,” he said.  “I’ll stay.”  
  
Rocket’s head jerked around.  “Is this your room?”  
  
“Sure is,” Yondu said.  “You’ll share it as long as you hafta.”  
  
“I don’t need to _cuddle_ to sleep!” Rocket said.  
  
Yondu shrugged.  “Never said ya did.  Needta feel safe, though.  Lay down.”  
  
Rocket scowled.  “What makes you think this’ll help?”  
  
“You’re younger than you put on,” Yondu said.  “Don’t know ‘zactly by how much but y’are.  Galaxy’s a big place, and there’s plenty of it would happily eat you or kill you or worse.  The tree was big, gave you somewhere safe, now that’s gone.  I ain’t a tree, but nothin’ll get through me.”  
  
Rocket hesitated, looking at the bed.  It  _would_ be nice to lay down and have someone bigger nearby.  About the only sleep he’d gotten since Groot’s sacrifice had been when he passed out from drinking, wedged into the ceiling of the Milano.  
  
“It’s that or drugging,” Yondu said, when he didn’t move.  
  
Rocket whirled, hackles going up.  “Let’s get _one_ thing clear here,” he snarled, one hand going to his gun.  “You ever threaten to drug me again, I will not hesitate to shoot you.   _No one_ puts drugs in me ‘cept _me_.”  
  
Instead of turning defensive, like Rocket would have expected, Yondu tilted his head, then his eyes widened, just enough to notice.  The Ravager nodded slowly.  “You gon’ sleep?” he asked.  
  
Rocket bared his teeth with another growl, then pulled his gun off his back and set it on the floor.  Wordlessly, he climbed onto the bed, putting himself by the wall.  The mattress creaked as Yondu climbed on after him, putting himself between Rocket and the door.  Rocket tensed, and flinched when he felt the heat of Yondu’s body.  Yondu didn’t react to it, just settled down.    
  
“When I was a slave,” Yondu said, his voice was so soft that Rocket had to turn his ears to really hear him.  “They would gas us when they needed to move us.  Easier to toss us like cargo.  We was never all the way out.  It was always just enough to not move.  Still felt everything.”  
  
Rocket’s hand gripped the sheets.  He felt tears in the corners of his eyes, and was glad he’d chosen to face the wall.  “Sometimes I tried to steal more of their drugs, hoped maybe I could get enough to not feel it, or even...”  He trailed off.  
  
“To not survive.”  
  
Rocket nodded.  
  
“Get some sleep, rat,” Yondu said.  
  
Rocket exhaled, and closed his eyes.

* * *

He woke up when Yondu started to rouse for his watch shift.  He stayed still, listening to the Captain move about for a few minutes.    
  
“If you ain’t awake yet, I’m gon’ be worried,” Yondu said.  
  
“I’m awake,” Rocket said, and rolled over.  Yondu was wearing his coat again.  
  
“Didja sleep?”  
  
“Yeah,” Rocket said.  He sat up and scratched behind his ear, avoiding Yondu’s gaze.  “Thanks.”  
  
“Y’ain’t the first,won’t be the last,” Yondu said.  “I need ya in here at least one shift every day, got it?  Don’t care which one, s’long as y’ sleep.”  
  
Rocket sighed, and nodded.  “If nothing else, it’ll make Groot happy.”  
  
“Good, little fella’s cute when he smiles,” Yondu said, then touched his fingers to his forehead and headed out.    
  
Rocket waited until he was gone, then stretched and washed his face to get his fur straightened out.  When that was done he jumped off the bed and got his gun back on his shoulder.  He looked around the small room for a few moments.  It felt strange to be standing in someone else’s space like this--without it being to steal something, of course.  He guessed most of Yondu’s belongings would have been destroyed when the main ship exploded and the things in here may very well have belonged to one of the now-deceased crew.  It if was anyone’s room, Rocket realized, it had probably been one of the dozens executed during the mutiny, tossed out an airlock.  There were a few trinkets on a dresser, a rusty knife hanging on the wall, and a shawl that looked hand-woven, colors faded with age.  Otherwise is was bare and functional.  
  
Rocket shook his head and opened the door, stepping into the hallway and about collided with Kraglin, who yelped and darted back, then realized what had emerged from the room and relaxed.  “Oh,” he said.  “Uh.  Hey.”  
  
Rocket just frowned at him.    
  
“Right,” Kraglin said, looking between Rocket and the room he’d just emerged from.  “I, uh, guess I’ll see you around.”  
  
“We’re kind of stuck on the same ship,” Rocket said, and watched him go.  Had Kraglin been heading for the same room, or just walking past it?  
  
It didn’t matter, he told himself after a moment, and headed back to the cargo bay.  He found Groot curled up in his toolbox, settled into the fertilizer mix Rocket had created.  It was more dirt-like than Rocket would have liked, and resulted in the little tree tracking the stuff everywhere after waking up, but it was all he’d been able to manage in such short time.  There was a better batch rotting away in the mess, but it would take longer to finish.  
  
Rocket smiled a little as Groot yawned and rolled over, and closed the lid again.


	3. Chapter 3

Rocket arrived to relieve Yondu from his watch four hours later.  “How’s the ship?”  
  
“Seems good,” Yondu said.  “Still not sure what we’re waitin’ for, but she ain’t even twitched.”  
  
“I wish I knew if that was good or bad,” Rocket said, climbing into his chair.  Groot clamored up after him and pulled the controls closer, looking them over with wide eyes.  Rocket watched him for a moment, then looked at Yondu.  “I got a condition on the sleeping thing.”  
  
Yondu waved a hand at him and grunted.  
  
“You gotta start taking showers,” Rocket said.  “Maybe _you’re_ used to your stench, but I ain’t.”  
  
Yondu turned a scowl on him.  “You sayin’ I smell?”  
  
“Ravager, I’m sayin’ you make your own farts seem like a breath of fresh air.”  
  
Yondu stared at him, then started to laugh, the loud, boisterous laugh that Rocket was learning was genuine. It went on and on, until Yondu was wiping the corners of his eyes and holding his stomach.  Rocket couldn’t suppress his own smile.    
  
“Seems to me, then,” Yondu finally said, still chuckling, “That I should just fart more!”  
  
“I _will_ murder you,” Rocket said, which sent Yondu into another peal of laughter.  
  
“Ah, rat,” Yondu said, with a huge grin.  He relaxed back in his chair, looking out the viewport.  “You got the spirit of a Ravager.”  
  
Rocket snorted.  “What, talking about farts?”  
  
“Yeah, but ‘s more’n that,” Yondu said.  “You ever think about turning Ravager?”  
  
“Nope.  I still ain’t met the Ravager that wouldn’t eat me if I was closer than their snack,” Rocket said.  “I like not being eaten.”  
  
“Still,” Yondu said.  “You ever need a place on a crew, you come find me.  You got a place with mine.”  
  
“I appreciate that,” Rocket said.  “Really.  I look forward to to being surrounded by the fragrant smell of death.”  
  
“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

* * *

   
“Found somethin’ weird,” Kraglin said, calling Rocket over the comms.    
  
“Where are you?” Rocket said, immediately on his feet.    
  
“Deck three, by storage 19,” Kraglin said.    
  
Rocket started running, cutting upwards when he reached an air duct and making his way through the ceiling.  When he was below the area Kraglin had called from he got into the walls and exited through a hall panel that put him right behind the Ravager.  “What is it?”  
  
Kraglin jumped and turned around, glaring at Rocket.  “Why can’t you use lifts like normal people?”  
  
“I ain’t normal people,” Rocket growled at him.  “So?”  
  
Kraglin shook his head and opened the door to the storage area.  It looked normal inside, but when he tried to step in, it was like he hit a wall.    
  
Rocket frowned and walked up to it, reaching out with his hand, and found himself stopped from pushing any further.  It didn’t feel like a wall, exactly, but more like a dense foam.  Careful prodding revealed that he could go above and below it, and it was just a bubble in the middle of the closet.    
  
“Like a bug what can’t break through water,” Kraglin said.  
  
Rocket let out a breath.  “Exactly.”  He reached for his comms.  “Yondu, you should come see this,” he said, and repeated their location.  Yondu answered that he would be there soon, and Rocket and Kraglin waited in silence.  
  
After Yondu arrived and had seen and felt the effects for himself, he looked at Rocket. “So what now?”  
  
Rocket shifted, gripping one wrist in the opposite hand, claws digging in.  “We watch how fast this moves,” he said.  “If it’s starting in the center...”  
  
“We’re about in the exact middle of the ship,” Yondu said.    
  
Rocket sighed.  “Yeah, so that’s about the worst way this coulda happened.  Let’s hope this moves fast, or the rest of the ship catches up quick.”  
  
“Then we’ll add a patrol to all off shifts,” Yondu said.  “Twice a day, by all of us.  Walk every hall, go into every room.  Track it as best we can.”  He looked at Rocket.  “I hope you get some better ideas soon.”  
  
Rocket’s ears lowered.  “Me too.”

* * *

  
Rocket was already in Yondu’s room when the Ravager captain got there later.  He was sitting on the bed, fidgeting with a small set of gears.  They were useless, but he needed something to do while he thought.

“So?” he asked when the door closed.

“No sign of it anywhere else,” Yondu said.  He took off his coat.  “There anything we can do?”

“Not that I know how to do,” Rocket said.  “Yet.  I already tried reversing into the jump, that didn’t work.”

“How would that help?” Yondu asked.

Rocket shrugged.  “Started wondering if we might be able to reset ourselves by going through the jump just once.  Everything gets fucked up going through one of those, but it resets in the process of getting spat back out.  What if we could get through it and get reset?”

“But we can’t get in,” Yondu said.

“Yeah,” Rocket said.  “Given the size of the spot in the closet and what’s in the walls behind it, if it’s been growing since we stopped, I’d say we’ve got about three, four solar months until enough of the ship has mass to be significantly affected.”

“So there’s time to figure it out,” Yondu said.

“Hopefully,” Rocket said.  He twisted the gears around.  “You had a nightmare yesterday,” he said.

“It happens,” Yondu said.  He sat down next to Rocket, watching him fidget, then very slowly, every move visible, reached out and covered Rocket’s hands with one of his. 

Rocket stiffened, but didn’t pull away.  His hands stopped moving. 

“You’ve had ‘em too,” Yondu murmured. 

Rocket cringed and his ears flattened.  “Yeah, well,” he muttered. 

They sat in silence for a while, unmoving, and Yondu’s hand felt like a weight to Rocket.  His breath grew shallower, his heart rate began to pick up. 

“You remember ‘em?” Yondu asked.

Rocket swallowed, and nodded.  His hand twitched, and Yondu moved his away.  Rocket immediately started twisting the gears. 

“You hear me havin’ one, wake me up,” Yondu said.  “I remember every piece of ‘em.  Rather they be shorter than longer.”

“You gonna think I’m part of it and send your arrow my way?” Rocket asked.

Yondu reached up and tapped his fin.  “Got a failsafe built in,” he said.  “Did that to Kraglin once, made sure it wouldn’t happen again.”

“How’s it work?” Rocket asked, and his hands stilled as he looked up.

“Got some fancy doc to wire it so’s it knows when I’m awake,” Yondu said.  “Can’t use it until a few moments after.”

“So it is fully neuro-wired,” Rocket said.  He leaned over to set the gears down on the nightstand.  “I wondered.”

“Figured you’d be able to tell when you installed it,” Yondu said.

“Not entirely,” Rocket said.  “I guessed, but wasn’t sure.  It’s a good piece of work.”

Yondu nodded, and reached up to touch the base of the fin, where it attached into his skull.  “The original was better.”

“Yeah, until Nebula blew it up,” Rocket snorted.

“No,” Yondu said, staring straight ahead.  “Until the Kree sawed it off.”

Rocket froze, breath stilling in his lungs.  He stared at Yondu, whose jaw was clenched.  The scar down the Ravager’s neck, the one that went to his back... He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, with other pressing matters to deal with it, but...

“You had an organic crest,” Rocket breathed. 

Yondu nodded.

Rocket swallowed.  “Were you awake?”

Yondu’s jaw twitched, and his head jerked in affirmation.

The silence in the room made it hard to breathe.  Then Rocket shifted, and reached out.  His fingers brushed over the back of Yondu’s white-knuckled fist.  Yondu looked at him. 

“When they tore out my spine,” Rocket said, “So was I.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, you guys! Ao3 categorized the Rocket Racoon/Yondu Udonta tag! 
> 
> ...There are three works. They're all mine. C'mon, authors of the world. Help me out here.

Rocket twisted a bolt down with his fingers before grabbing a wrench to tighten everything.  There were faster ways to build, but right now, he wanted the repetitive motions more than he needed the thing he was creating.  He lifted the device, peering critically at it, then grabbed for the next attachment.  He hummed a little, filling the silence with something other than his own breath.    
  
His ears flicked back when he heard footsteps.  “You some kinda stalker or what?” he asked.  
  
“Someone needs to keep an eye on you,” Yondu said as he wandered into the cargo bay.  “Might get carried away and take apart the whole ship.”  
  
Rocket smirked.  “I still say that might be an improvement.”  
  
“Just wait until we’re on solid ground,” Yondu said, lowering himself to sit next to Rocket.  “You ever stop tinkerin’?”  
  
“Not really,” Rocket said.    
  
“Keeps the mind quiet,” Yondu said, and Rocket gave him a startled look.  Yondu looked back, and shrugged.  “Not hard to figure.”  
  
“Well stop figuring,” Rocket grumbled.  “Figuring’s my job, anyway.”  
  
“Anyone ever tell you yer a smartass?”  
  
Rocket rolled his eyes.  “Nope, never.”  
  
“Somehow I don’ believe that.”  
  
“That’s why it was sarcasm, ya blue idiot.”  
  
“Didn’t we just talk about you bein’ a smartass?”  
  
Rocket glared at him, but there was no real strength to it.  “You here for somethin’?”  
  
“Thought you might like to know that I loaded up a bunch of song clones, but since you’re not interested...” Yondu gave a shrug and started to stand.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, hang on there,” Rocket said, and waited until Yondu settled back down.  He scowled at the man’s smug look.  “You got more of Quill’s music?” he asked, trying not to sound eager.  
  
“Boy lived here most’a his life,” Yondu said.  “‘Course I got more music.”  
  
“I thought it would’ve been stored in the main databases,” Rocket said, and took the tablet that Yondu handed him.  He scrolled through the choices, and felt his ears perk at the huge variety.  Nothing from Awesome Mix Vol. 2, but there were titles on here he’d never heard before.    
  
“Made sure it was in all the quadrants,” Yondu said.  
  
Rocket shot him a look but didn‘t comment.  “Where’d you get so much of it?” he asked instead, and started playing a familiar song.  
  
“Oh, picked 'em up traveling,” Yondu said.  “Here and there.  Sometimes I’d swing past Terra for a few clips.”  
  
“You went all the way to that backwater hole of the galaxy to get songs?”  
  
Yondu shrugged and picked up one of Rocket’s guns.  “Quill liked ‘em.”  
  
Rocket narrowed his eyes and looked at the Ravager.  “Uh-huh.”  
  
Yondu didn’t seem to notice, and after a moment, grinned and chuckled to himself.  “This is the song he was playin’ the first time he tried flyin’ that ship ‘a his.”  
  
“I’m guessing it wasn’t as smooth a flight as my first time,” Rocket snickered.  
  
“Guess if you consider a wreck smooth,” Yondu said.  He smiled as he remembered it.  “He forgot how to lower the landing gear, engaged forward thrusters instead, and went straight into a cliff."  He laughed.  “Not his best day.”  
  
“Really,” Rocket said, grinning.  “You got any other stories about him?”  
  
“Ah, that boy,” Yondu said, shaking his head and chuckling.  He handed Rocket the wrench he was reaching for. “Don’t worry, I got plenty."

* * *

Blaring alarms jerked Rocket awake and for a moment, he felt Yondu’s hand tighten on his waist, then the Ravager captain was rolling out of bed.  “Kraglin!” he shouted, grabbing his jacket and hitting the door controls.  Rocket was right behind him, swinging his bag over his shoulders and going down to all fours as they ran towards the bridge.  
  
“Hull breach!” Kraglin reported.  “Got it sealed but the whole area looks like it could buckle!”  
  
Rocket skidded into the bridge on Yondu’s heels and he jumped up to look at the controls, swiping through until he found the breach.  He cursed, and felt Groot climbing up his shoulder.  He grabbed the little tree and shoved him into Yondu’s hands.  “Stay here!” he snapped, and took off.  He climbed straight up through the walls to get to the point of damage faster, and came up almost directly under the breach.  He could see stars beyond the buckled metal, held in place by an energy shield.  To either side, more of the ship was starting to warp.  He reached into his bag and pulled out a torch and a sladon and started working on getting one of the heavier wall panels detached.  
  
Footsteps behind him made him turn to see Yondu.  “Where’s Groot?” he demanded.  
  
“With Kraglin,” Yondu said.  “What do you need?”  
  
“I want to patch it with material still on our time,” Rocket said.  “Biggest, heaviest wall panel you can find.  So if it’s a fluke spot, the rest of the ship stays sealed up, got it?”    
  
Yondu nodded.  “Got it,” he said, and strode off down the hall.  Rocket turned back to the panel he was working away and got it detached.  He braced it with his shoulder for a moment, then darted out of the way and let it slam to the floor.  “Yondu!” he said over comms.  “Get somewhere safe and hold on.”  He grabbed one of the brackets running through the wall.  “Kraglin, drop the shield, count to five, then put the shield back up, two feet lower.  Wait sixty seconds and drop it again.  Got it?”  
  
“Got it,” Kraglin said.  “Get ready.”    
  
Rocket inhaled, then felt the _rush_ of air around him as they were opened up to space.  The panel was sucked up into the ceiling over the breach, and as soon as Rocket heard it hit, he let go.    
  
The vacuum pulled him up and he slammed into the panel, the force of the hit knocking the air from his lungs.  He had about two seconds to regret his plan, then the shield went back up, trapping him there in the vacuum.  He gripped the sladon and started working his way around the edge of the panel, hoping this wasn’t about to become the stupidest thing he’d ever done.  
  
He was starting to see black spots when he reached the point he’d started at.  Everything looked sealed.  How many seconds had passed?  Was sixty too many for his implants?  Was this--  
  
The shield dropped and Rocket fell into the hallway, and the first gasp for air burned his lungs and sent him into a coughing fit.  He tried to stand, but ended up doubled over there, taking as many deep breaths as he could between the coughing.  
  
“What in the _hell_ was that!”  
  
Rocket looked to the side to see Yondu there, staring at him.  “A really bad idea, I think,” he rasped.  
  
“You’re tellin’ me!  If you were my boy I’d box your ears, you coulda died pullin’ that stunt!” Yondu shouted at him.  
  
Rocket tried to answer and ended up in another coughing fit.  “Yeah, well, good thing I’m not your boy,” he said, and finally got all the way upright.  “I need this section’s schematics.”  
  
“Got ‘em in the bridge,” Yondu said, and jerked his head.  “C’mon.”  
  
They walked in silence and once they reached the bridge Rocket pulled the designs up, zeroing in on the section that had breached.  “There,” he said, pointing.  “Got a different alloy over that section because it’s going to be under more pressure when the ship’s planetside.  We need to patch every part of the hull with that material with something else.”  
  
“How do you know that’s what caused it?” Kraglin asked.  
  
“I don’t,” Rocket said.  “But right now we’re running on guesses, so I’m guessing that’s the answer.  Given how quick that part went, we need to get this as soon as possible.”  
  
“Ain’t too much of it,” Kraglin said, standing.  He handed Groot to Rocket.  “You watch the ship, we’ll take care of the welding.”  
  
Rocket wanted to protest, but Groot’s arms going around his neck and the burning in his lungs made him nod.  He watched the two men stride out, walking together with the ease of long familiarity, then climbed up into a chair to monitor their ship. 

* * *

When the work was finished, Yondu took watch and Rocket retreated to the cargo bay with Groot.  He sat with the tree, pouring over the schematics for the entire ship, looking for any other areas that might buckle unexpectedly on them, but truthfully, he had no idea what to look for.  Before the hull breach, he wouldn’t have guessed _that_ material would shift before the rest, and still wasn’t completely certain that was what had happened.    
  
He tried not to think about what would happen if _they_ started to return to normal space before the rest of the ship.  Would they just suffocate?  Would they get torn apart by the gravitational waves if their bodies returned at different rates?  What about implants?  
  
He was still staring at the schematics four hours later when Yondu came to find him.    
  
“You ever pull some kind of dumbass move like that again,” the Ravager growled.  
  
Groot got up to his feet.  “I am Groot!” he yelled.    
  
Rocket’s ears flattened.  “No, he’s right, Groot,” he said.  “It was dumb.  But I didn’t know if we had a choice.  And I made it, didn’t I?”  
  
“That is _not_ the point,” Yondu said.  “We don’t got a chance at this without you, and we all know it.  You need something stupid like that, you ask _me_.”  
  
Rocket glared at him.  “You definitely would have died.”  
  
“Damn it, rat, I am not as important as you!” Yondu shouted.  
  
Rocket froze, and stared.  “...What?”  
  
Yondu gritted his teeth and looked away, hands on his hips.  “If anyone can get Quill out of whatever mess he’s gotten himself into, it’s you.  You’re his family.  You are more important than me, and I won’t have you dyin’ on my watch.”  
  
Rocket rolled his eyes.  “No one’s dying on any watch, got it?  Quill might not realize it but you’re just as important.  We are going to get through this, _all_ of us, so I can tell him what a moron he was all those years and what you did.”  
  
Yondu sagged and shook his head.  “I never did nothin’ right.”  
  
“Well you are now,” Rocket said.  He stood up and walked over, and reached up to wrap his hand around Yondu’s finger.  “Okay?”  Yondu’s skin was warm under his and when Yondu looked down, Rocket felt his breath catch.  The Captain looked away quickly and nodded.  

* * *

“They used to stick me in hard vacuum sometimes,” Rocket said, breaking the silence on the bridge.  
  
Yondu looked over at him.  Rocket fiddled with an ammo cartridge, checking it over for any flaws.  The Ravager didn’t need to ask who they were or why they would do such a thing.  
  
“Never for that long,” Rocket admitted after a moment.  “I think after a while they wanted to not lose me.”  He smirked, biting out the next words.  “First time anyone ever cared.”  
  
“Just ‘cause ya knew ya could don’t make it not stupid,” Yondu said.  
  
“You sound like Quill.”  
  
Silence again, before Yondu spoke.  “That ain’t  care.”  
  
Rocket glanced at him.  “What?”  
  
“Them scientists, not wantin’ you dead,” Yondu said.  “That ain’t care.  It’s possession.  You were their toy, they didn’t wanna lose that.  Care would be not doin’ it in the first place.”  
  
Rocket frowned at him.  “Yeah, so?”  
  
Yondu shrugged.  “Wanna make sure ya get that.  Took me a while.  Stakar really had to work at gettin’ me past some’a the junk I had in my head.  Not sure if anyone ever did that for you, so just ... wanna make sure.”  
  
Rocket’s hands moved over the piece he was holding, in a dozenth check.  “Yeah,” he said.  He glanced over at Groot, who was pretending to fly the ship on a small set of controls Rocket had built for him.  “Groot helped me a lot with that.”  
  
“Packs a punch with three little words, huh?”  
  
“Ain’t just three words, y’know,” Rocket said.  “Just that none of you listen to the rest of it.”    
  
“I am Groot,” Groot added.  
  
“Wassat?”  
  
Rocket frowned at the little tree.  “Something rude.”  
  
Yondu chuckled.  “Takes after a rat I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Haven’t heard this song in forever,” Kraglin said, grinning.    
  
“Serious?  I hear it at least once a day,” Rocket said.    
  
“Pete always did love this one,” Kraglin said, and hummed along for a few bars, making Rocket cringe with the man’s sense of tone.  “Looked at a feeling, da da da da, da da da lotta tea...”  
  
“That ain’t even...” Rocket started, but then just shook his head with an eye roll.    
  
“Kraglin, we talked about you singin’,” Yondu said, arriving onto the bridge for his watch.  “Havin’ a damn party without me?”   
  
“If you could call endless hours of frustration a party,” Rocket said.   
  
“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.    
  
Kraglin waved a dismissive hand.  “Ain’t a party without you, Cap’n.”  He stood up and stretched.  “Rocket, anything you want me to check on before I turn in?”   
  
Rocket pulled up the ship’s scans.  “Nah, looks good from here.”   
  
Yondu and Kraglin nodded to each other as they swapped places and Kraglin left.  Yondu and Rocket sat quietly for a while, listening to Quill’s music.  Yondu occasionally hummed a few bars, leaving Rocket wondering how often the Ravager Captain had listened to the songs since Peter had left.    
  
“You know he goes and drinks, right?” Rocket asked.   
  
“I know,” Yondu said.  “Man’s been through hell, and he knows his limits.”   
  
“I’m just sayin’, if we end up in a tight spot and we need him responsive...”   
  
“I trust ‘im,” Yondu said.  “We need ‘im, he’ll be there.  I’m keepin’ an eye on it.”   
  
“If you say so,” Rocket said.  He flipped to the next set of logs he was combing through.    
  
“What’cha lookin’ for?” Yondu asked.   
  
“Tryin’ to figure out how a space jump works,” Rocket said, and got a confused look from the Ravager.   
  
“Y'don' already?”  
  
“I understand in _theory_ ,” Rocket said.  “But I wouldn’t be able to create one from scratch.  That’s the goal.  Maybe if I can work _that_ out...”  He rubbed at his eyes.  “‘Course the immense amount of academic material on this ship makes this _really_ easy.”   
  
Yondu smirked.  “We got plenty ‘a academic material.”   
  
“Yeah, the endless how-to porn mags are really enlightening,” Rocket said, and shook his head.  “Ravagers.”   
  
Yondu was quiet for a minute.  “Ain’t all like that,” he finally said.  “Not gonna say they’re a polished bunch, but there’s some what actually got an education.”  He picked at a thread in his sleeve.  “Then there’s me an’ mine, what could barely even read.”   
  
Rocket looked up.  “ _You_ couldn’t help that.”   
  
“I coulda tried harder,” Yondu said.  “Stakar taught me some, made sure I’d be able to tell prices and shop types and such.”  His voice warmed for a moment, eyes unfocusing the way they always did when he talked about his rescuer and once-friend.  “Saw somethin’ in me.”  He paused, and his expression darkened.  “But I was always just wantin’ the next job.  Then after...”   
  
Rocket waited.    
  
Yondu heaved a sigh.  “After I got exiled, this weren’t really the crew ta join.  Lost a lotta good men.”   
  
“Kept some, too, though,” Rocket said.    
  
“And look what it got ‘em,” Yondu said, biting out the words.    
  
Rocket didn’t really have a good answer for that.  “Sometimes life just blows,” he decided on.  He climbed out of his chair and went over to Yondu’s, jumping up onto the armrest and perching there.  He reached over Yondu and pushed the hull pressure readings forward so he could keep an eye on them, then pulled up the logs he’d been looking through.  They were mostly data dumps from the ship’s sensors, taken while going through various space jumps, but there were sections that had been condensed into readable summaries by the ship’s computer.  “Wanna learn some more?” he asked.   
  
Yondu frowned at him.  “I ain’t no brainiac.”   
  
“There’s more in your head than a lotta baldies got,” Rocket said.  “Trust me.  Wouldn’t waste my time otherwise.”  He highlighted a section and blew it up, then locked the screen there.  “This part, know any of these?”   
  
Yondu frowned, peering intently.  “Maybe,” he said.  “How’d you learn?”   
  
“To read?” Yondu nodded.  “How d’you think I learned, in a flarkin’ schoolhouse?  Stop stalling.”   
  
Yondu sighed and put his finger under one of the words.  “That one’s ship.”    
  
“Yep,” Rocket said.  He reached out to put his hand over Yondu’s, guiding it along. He felt the Ravager’s breath against his neck and wondered when he had started feeling so comfortable here. 

* * *

Yondu’s movement behind him was what first woke Rocket up.  The tang of sweat and adrenaline in the air got him sitting, and he twisted around to look at the face that was contorted in the grips of whatever nightmare had arisen tonight. Rocket reached out for his shoulder and shook him.  “Yondu,” he whispered, always keeping one eye on the arrow across the room.  Yondu didn’t react, so Rocket shook him harder.  “Yondu!”   
  
Yondu bolted upright, gasping for air, and one hand went around Rocket’s neck.  Rocket choked, clawing at the hand, and stared up at the eyes that were looking at him without any recognition.  Yondu’s lips pursed together--  
  
The grip loosened and Rocket scrambled back, chest heaving as he flung his arms up and braced to be hit by the arrow.  After a moment, when there was no whistle, he lowered his arms a little and looked to see Yondu’s wide eyes, but they were clear.  He shifted, then moved forward.  “Yondu?”   
  
“I...” Yondu said, and shook his head, looking away.  The room was too dark to tell, but Rocket thought his face was probably flushed.  Shame wasn’t something he could smell, but it was clear from the way Yondu held himself.   
  
“It’s okay,” Rocket said, crawling forward.  He put a hand on Yondu’s arm, and the Ravager flinched and pulled away.  “Yondu.  It’s okay.”   
  
Yondu shook his head.  “Coulda killed you.”    
  
Rocket snorted.  “I’m a lot harder to take down than that, don’t flatter yourself.”   
  
“Damn it, rat...”   
  
“Hey, _you’re_ the one that put me here,” Rocket snapped at him.  He could feel his tail bristle.  “Remember that?  I needed to sleep?  Well guess what, it fucking worked.  So you don’t get to kick me out because of a fucking nightmare and you’ve got another thing coming if--”   
  
Yondu’s hands on him made Rocket snarl, but the next thing--  
  
Oh, _god_ , the next thing he felt was Yondu’s mouth on his, and Rocket froze.  Yondu pulled back, eyes wide, then Rocket’s hands were searching for purchase against Yondu’s chest, grabbing his shirt and yanking him back in.  Then Yondu was over him, and when Rocket pulled his leg back, he felt hardness under the leather of the Ravager’s trousers.  Yondu groaned and his hips rocked forward, and Rocket pushed back, then his hands were moving to his own suit, tearing at the fastenings.  Why, _why_ , did he always wear single-piece suits?   
  
“You ever...” Yondu said.   
  
“It ain’t my fucking first time, if that’s what you’re asking,” Rocket snarled.   
  
Then Yondu’s hands were on his hips, with thumbs brushing in, and it made Rocket jerk in his grasp.  He gasped for breath at the next stroke and reached down for Yondu’s trousers, quick fingers making short work of the buttons there.  Yondu shoved them down, and it made Rocket squirm to get out of his own suit. Yondu’s hands were there immediately to help push it away.  His fur being exposed made Rocket shiver, and Yondu’s mouth on his neck as he pushed the suit past his hips ... Rocket saw stars in front of him.  He got one leg free, and Yondu pushed him onto his front.    
  
“‘S okay?” Yondu grunted.   
  
“If you stop I’ll fucking shoot you,” Rocket growled.  Yondu’s hand reached around him, gave him something to push against.  “Fuck.  _Fuck_.”  Fingers wrapped around his tail.   
  
“You got--”   
  
“In my bag,” Rocket said.  “There’s a jar ‘a--”   
  
The bed was small enough that Yondu didn’t have to ever fully move off to grab Rocket’s bag.  He heard the entire contents spilled out, and saw the light of the batteries as they rolled across the floor.  Yondu found the jar and climbed back on, and Rocket felt the coolness of the thick oil-based mix dripping on his back, heard the movements of Yondu’s hand on himself.  Fingers curled around Rocket and he thrust against them, at the same moment as he felt Yondu push forward.   
  
He froze, trembling, and behind him, above him, _in_ him, Yondu stilled.    
  
“Keep going,” Rocket finally managed, and groaned when Yondu’s weight settled above him.  The first thrust pushed him into the mattress and he lifted his hips up as much as he could.  Yondu’s hand under him helped, and Rocket gripped the tangled sheets, staring at the larger hand in front of him doing the same, the veins in the arm visible even in the dim light.  Rocket panted, and his head snapped back at the next thrust.  “ _Fuck!_ ”   
  
Everything after that was hard, fast, with nothing but the sound of Yondu’s grunts, Rocket’s groaning, and the slap of one body hitting another in the room.  Rocket gripped the sheets like they would somehow keep him there, pulling at them.  Yondu’s fingers stroked him to the same speed as his thrusts and when Yondu came, heat spilling out, so did Rocket, writhing in the Ravager’s grip.   
  
When it faded, Yondu’s stroking didn’t stop, and Rocket hissed, hand shooting down to grab his wrist.  “Ow--fuck, stop, _stop!_ ”   
  
Yondu stopped immediately.  “But you didn’t...”   
  
Rocket exhaled, and sagged forward. His arms didn’t feel like they would be able to hold him up much longer.  “Yeah I did,” he mumbled, and felt Yondu settle over him.  He hated this part.  “I just don’t ... I can’t...”   
  
“You don’t gotta talk about it,” Yondu said.  His hand moved off Rocket, gently.  “‘Less ya wanna.”   
  
Rocket nodded, and sank down with some relief.  Most of the time, hook-ups wanted to know why nothing came out of him, as part of the fun freakish puzzle that he was, and that just meant remembering things he didn’t want to remember.  So instead of talking, he let himself enjoy the moments of afterglow.   
  
Yondu pulling out of him jerked him back to reality a few minutes later, then Yondu’s hand came to rest on his hip and Rocket felt himself rolled carefully to his side.  Yondu pressed against his back and wrapped an arm around Rocket’s body.   
  
“Well,” Yondu said.   
  
Rocket snorted.  “Yeah, well.”   
  
“Been a while since I done that.”   
  
Rocket had heard plenty of Peter’s stories about the Ravager captain hooking up with various prostitutes across the galaxy, so he knew it wasn’t _that_.  “What, fucked an animal?” he muttered, the thing that most people thought sleeping with him meant.  It was mean, and crass, but he knew what people thought. “Surprised you ever...”   
  
He trailed off when he felt Yondu tense and draw away, and when only silence answered him, he twisted at the waist to look up.  Yondu was staring at him, frowning deeply.    
  
“Bedded a man,” Yondu finally said.   
  
Rocket’s face grew hot, even as his heart thudded in his chest at the words.  “Oh,” he said.  “I...”   
  
“S’not the first thing most folk think when they see you,” Yondu said.   
  
Rocket’s mouth opened but he was silent for a long time.  Yondu waited, until Rocket figured out what had sounded so strange about Yondu’s words.  “No one’s ever called me that before.”   
  
Yondu looked at him for a few more moments, then relaxed back down onto the bed.  “‘S what’cha are,” he said.   
  
Rocket’s hand found Yondu’s wrist and he gripped tightly.  Yondu’s arm stayed around him, and somehow, Rocket finally drifted off to sleep. 


	6. Chapter 6

Rocket stirred, feeling strange as he roused, and it took him a moment to pinpoint why.  His fur was bare against the sheets.    
  
Why...  
  
Yondu’s breath behind him, gentle against his ears, made Rocket’s eyes open.   
  
_Oh._  
  
Right.   
  
Rocket shifted, and Yondu’s grip tightened.  Rocket scowled in his direction and began extracting himself.  It was made trickier by the fact that he’d never gotten his suit all the way off, and now his feet were tangled up in it.  But he managed to squirm his way out and crawl off the bed, then stepped out of the inside-out suit.    
  
He turned it right-ways out and fished into a pocket for a clock that would tell him exactly how much time he _didn’t_ have to really wash.    
  
He had about five minutes before he had to relieve Kraglin from watch.  He cursed under his breath, and quickly started grooming his face and neck.  Then he stepped into his suit, cringing as he felt the crusted fur under his tail.   
  
Yondu shifted.  “Mmh.  Rat?”   
  
“I got watch,” Rocket said, keeping his voice low.    
  
Yondu mumbled something, then rolled over and snored.   
  
Rocket glared towards the bed, then took a step and shifted uncomfortably as he did.  He really, really wanted to go actually wash.  But instead he trudged his way to the bridge, reminding himself that he’d survived plenty worse things than having dried cum crusted on his fur for a few hours.  Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d survived _that_.   
  
“Flarkin’ Ravager,” he muttered to himself, then started thinking about the other Ravager on the ship.  What species was Kraglin, anyway?  How good was his sense of smell?  Would he be able to tell?   
  
Rocket walked into the bridge, and Kraglin just looked at him, nodded, and left.   
  
Rocket watched him go, then climbed up into his favorite chair, glad to have dodged that particular encounter.  He pulled up the ship’s statuses, then heard the quiet patter that meant Groot was on his way.   
  
Ah, _crap_.  Rocket managed not to groan, but just barely.  Groot would be able to smell Yondu all over him.  He’d always been able to tell when Rocket had been out with someone, no matter how many times Rocket showered, and Rocket doubted the smaller version would be at all different.    
  
Groot climbed up on his chair a few moments later, and settled in Rocket’s lap.  “I am Groot!” he said.   
  
“We are still alive,” Rocket agreed.  “Wanna learn how to start the thrusters today?”   
  
“I am Groot!” Groot jumped up eagerly, then paused, then turned around and looked at Rocket.  “I am Groot?”   
  
“Er...” Rocket’s ears pulled back.  “Well you know I sleep in his room.”   
  
“I am Groot.”   
  
Rocket scowled at the little tree.  “Different how?”  
  
“I am ... Groot,” Groot said slowly, then his eyes widened.  “I ... am Groot!”  He jumped once, beaming up at Rocket.   
  
“God dammit,” Rocket muttered to himself, covering his face with his hand.  “Groot, listen--”   
  
“I am _Groot_.”   
  
Rocket’s hand dropped and he snapped his head around to stare at Groot.  “Hey, language!”   
  
Groot looked pleased with himself, smiling in answer to Rocket’s glare, before his expression shifted to concern and he put a hand on Rocket’s arm.  “I am Groot?” he asked.   
  
Rocket blinked at him.  “You gotta big memory today," he sighed, and Groot smiled a little, but poked Rocket’s arm when he didn’t get an answer.  “No,” Rocket relented.  “He wasn’t like those ones.  It was almost like...” He stared off into space for a moment, then shook himself.  “Almost like he didn’t even notice.”   
  
Groot’s pleased look returned and he turned around and sat back down in Rocket’s lap.  “I am Groot,” he said.    
  
“I...” Rocket paused.  “Me too," he finally said, with a bit of a smile. 

* * *

Four hours later, it was, of course, Yondu who came to relieve Rocket from watch.  The Ravager’s gait looked stiff as he walked in, jaw clenched tight.   
  
“Hey,” Rocket said, watching him.    
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said, unhelpfully, looking up at Yondu with a grin.   
  
“What’s he looking at me like that for?” Yondu asked, frowning at Groot.   
  
“He ... has a really good sense of smell, or whatever trees have,” Rocket said, grimacing.   
  
“Ah.”  Yondu shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  “‘Course he do.  Look...”   
  
Rocket held a hand up, stopping him, and jumped down from his chair.  “I got four hours to think, so you get four hours to think.  And I really need a shower.”   
  
Did Yondu _blush?_  
  
“Righ’,” Yondu said.  “How’s the ship?”   
  
“Ship’s good,” Rocket said.  He waited until Groot was settled on his shoulder before bolting to the showers. 

* * *

Rocket decided that the cargo bay would be the best place.  No bed, no closed doors, lots of space and plenty to fidget with.  If Yondu came to find him, at least, which he really expected he would.  He settled in with his latest weapon and started tinkering with the firing mechanism to add a customizable delay setting--because why not--and he was still working on it when the Ravager captain arrived.   
  
Yondu stopped in the doorway and watched for a while, then walked forward and selected a crate with a good amount of space between him and Rocket to sit on.    
  
Rocket worked in silence for a while, feeling strangely calm.  It was just Yondu.  Even Yondu felt calm to him, or at least he couldn’t smell any stress or fear.    
  
He clicked the last part of the firing mechanism into place, hefted the gun for weight, then set it on the ground and looked at Yondu.  “Don’t mess with this one,” he said.  “Ain’t rigged like normal.”   
  
“Won’t touch it,” Yondu said.   
  
Rocket’s hands found an empty cartridge and he started twisting it.  He glanced between his hands and Yondu, then looked straight ahead at the ground.  “After I got out,” he said, “I found this bio-tech doc to tell me what I was.  She didn’t know what animal my body was made from.  But she could tell some of what they were experimenting with.  Most of it was what I already guessed.  But she also said it looked like they were experimenting with artificial hormones.”   
  
Yondu frowned.  “Wassat?”   
  
Rocket looked up, staring at him.  “Right,” he said.  “It’s like ... chemicals inside you that make you feel certain ways or grow and stuff.  There’s hormones for all kinds of things.  Some of them’s responsible for sex stuff.”   
  
Yondu nodded slowly.  He seemed to be looking at Rocket’s hands, twisting the cartridge, twisting, twisting.    
  
Rocket took a deep breath and let it go.  “They sterilized me,” he said.  “Probably to make me easier to handle.  But then they figured they might as well see if they could do experiments on that too.  So I can still ... but I can’t...”  He sighed, and decided to get it over with.  “I got the gun, I ain’t got the ammo.”   
  
Yondu nodded.  “Kree used to sterilize the slaves that caused the most trouble,” he said.  “Made ‘em more mild-like.”   
  
Rocket shrugged.  “Guess it does something like that.  Musta been early on, I don’t remember it.”  He looked at his hands.  “I remember ... being so angry I could barely see, and other times I couldn’t even think because...”  He swallowed.  He didn’t know how to describe the cold, staring eyes after they sprayed his nose with chemicals, recording every moment as he mounted a--  
  
Yondu stood up.  The movement jerked Rocket back to the present and Yondu and came over, sitting next to Rocket on the floor. “You don’t gottta tell me stuff like that.  ‘Less ya wanna.”  
  
“I know,” Rocket said.  “But that one’s always a question.  So you might as well know.  Especially if we...”  He chanced a quick glance up.   
  
Yondu raised an eyebrow at him.  “If we...?”   
  
Rocket scowled back.  “Fuck you.”   
  
Yondu grinned.  “That’s one way to put it.”   
  
“Ugh, put those teeth away before I change my mind,” Rocket groused.  Yondu’s grin only got wider.  “Are you serious?”  
  
“Can’t help it,” Yondu said.  “First time in my life I can say in all truthness that I’m gettin’ tail.”   
  
Rocket threw the cartridge at his face, and even with the perfect aim, it didn’t stop Yondu’s laughter. 

* * *

Rocket had to leave for watch first, and the shift was one of the longest-feeling of the entire time they’d been trapped here.  He found himself just staring at the planet, hoping that Quill, Gamora, and Drax were okay.  Even though he knew, technically, that being stuck here wasn’t abandoning his team, it felt like it.    
  
“My turn.”   
  
Rocket glanced over his shoulder at Yondu, and nodded.  “Your turn.”  He jumped down and started to head past Yondu, a sleepy Groot holding onto his neck.   
  
“Hey, rat.”   
  
Rocket paused and looked up.   
  
“Jokin’ aside ... ya really wanna...”   
  
Rocket regarded Yondu for a few moments, head tilted, then nodded.   
  
“Okay,” Yondu said.  “I’ll see ya, then.” 

* * *

Rocket fidgeted while he waited for Yondu to return, picking at the sheets.  They had been changed, which was an unexpected but pleasant surprise.  Rocket wouldn’t have expected that from the Ravager.  Groot had tried to cling to him, thrilled about the latest development in Rocket’s life and wanting to know all about it, but Rocket had finally convinced him to rest in his fertilizer spot.  His own reasons aside, Rocket didn’t truly know what Groot needed to stay healthy, so all he could really do was give him everything he could think of and hope it was enough.  With their strange schedules, Groot had been wandering around the ship more than resting.   
  
The door opened and Rocket watched Yondu walk in and take off his coat.  “Y'know the twig’s sittin’ outside.”   
  
Rocket groaned.  “Told him to stay in his room.”   
  
“He got a room?”   
  
“It’s a toolbox in the cargo bay,” Rocket said.  “Got it rigged with some light and fertilizer and stuff.”  He sighed and got up and went to the door.  He opened it and stuck his head out, looking around.  Groot was there, sitting right next to the door with his head pressed against the wall, listening into Yondu’s room.  He looked up at Rocket with wide eyes, then gave a little smile and wave.   
  
Rocket suppressed another groan.  “C’mon, Groot,” he said, and waved the little tree into the room.  “You can sleep here.”   
  
Groot cheered as he ran inside and Rocket shrugged in response to Yondu’s frown.  “I’m not making him leave if this is where he wants to be.”  He climbed up onto the bed and held an arm out for Groot, who crawled up to him and curled up there.    
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said.   
  
“I know, buddy,” Rocket said.  He felt Yondu’s hand go around his waist and smiled a little as he drifted off. 


	7. Chapter 7

Rocket woke up not much later to the feeling of leaves tickling his nose.  He opened his eyes and saw Groot standing in front of him.  He rubbed his face.  “Whaddya want?”  
  
Groot pointed at the door.  “I am Groot.”  
  
“Fine, but you gotta promise that you won’t bother Kraglin,” Rocket said, and untangled himself from the sheets.  Groot got up and bounded towards the door and Rocket let him out, then watched him trundle away.  
  
“Where he goin’?” Yondu asked, voice thick with sleep.  
  
“Bridge,” Rocket said.  He yawned and stretched as he came back into the room, then checked the time.  Groot hadn’t even made it an hour before getting bored.  “He likes to watch the screens.”  
  
Yondu grunted.  “‘S why he always starin’ at me when I’m on watch?”  
  
“Probably,” Rocket said, climbing back into bed.  He settled with his head on the pillow, facing Yondu.  “Or he’s hopin’ you’ll hafta use your arrow.  Think he thought it would be more exciting in here now.”  
  
Yondu opened one eye.  “How old is he, anyway?”  
  
Rocket snorted.  “Older than me,” he said.  Yondu’s hand went back to his waist.  “No idea.  Just ‘cause he’s small don’t mean he forgot everything.  Acts like a kid, but sometimes he says things he wouldn’t know if he was a kid.  I think his brain just needs to get bigger so it can hold all of him at once again.”  
  
Now both of Yondu’s eyes were open.  “How old are _you?_ ”  
  
“Eh...”  Rocket shrugged.  “That answer just makes you baldies uncomfortable.  How old are _you?_ ”  
  
Yondu glared at him.    
  
“My point exactly,” Rocket said, with a bit of a smirk.  He felt Yondu’s hand on him tighten.  “Why you asking?”  
  
“No reason,” Yondu said, and pushed Rocket back, shifting over him.  The hand that had been on Rocket’s waist slipped lower.  
  
“Thought this was about sleeping,” Rocket said, but his hands were already tugging on Yondu’s shirt, pulling it loose from his belt.  
  
Yondu grinned.  “We’ll sleep eventually.”  
  
“You are a bad influence.”  
  
“Says the thug raisin’ a baby.”  
  
Rocket got Yondu’s shirt free.  “Says the crook that raised Quill.  You just gonna talk or you gonna do something?”  
  
Yondu’s startled look quickly turned back into a grin.  “Ain’t you a demanding one,” he said, and as Rocket undid the fastenings on his shoulder straps, reached over to grab the jar from Rocket’s bag.  “What is this stuff anyway?” he asked.  “Took forever to get out of my hair.”  
  
Rocket snickered at the image.  “It’s for Groot’s bark.  He dries out too quick in space, not a lotta moisture in this air.  I’ll figure out something better tomorrow.”  
  
“Good,” Yondu said, and sat up to give Rocket room to squirm out of his suit.  He undid the buttons on his pants and pushed them down.    
  
Rocket bared his teeth in a grin.  “That’s more like it,” he said, and rolled over.  “Go slow, I’m kinda sore.”  
  
“ _You’re_ the one that said if I stopped ya’d shoot me,” Yondu said, moving over him.  “‘Sides, seem to recall ya enjoying y’self.”  
  
Rocket stretched forward, making a sound when Yondu’s fingers rubbed against him that was _definitely_ not a purr.  Yondu chuckled.  
  
“Slow, huh?” Yondu said, and his other hand slipped under Rocket, fingers curling around him.    
  
“Slow _er_ ,” Rocket clarified.  Yondu stroked him, and Rocket closed his eyes, kneading at the sheets.    
  
When Yondu finally pressed into him, Rocket didn’t know how he’d managed to last so long.  Yondu stilled for a moment, and Rocket gave a huffing laugh.  
  
“Somethin’ funny?” Yondu asked, rocking his hips.  
  
Rocket groaned.  “No,” he said.  “‘S just, Quill’s gonna be _so_ pissed.”  
  
Yondu’s laughter surrounded him, and Rocket pressed his face into the sheets to hide his grin.

* * *

“Hey, question,” Yondu said.  He was sitting in the chair next to Rocket, his feet propped up on the display, chewing at his nails.  
  
“Go,” Rocket said, not looking up from the scans of the space jump.  They were old, taken from when Yondu was still traveling regularly to the planet, but they were better than nothing.  
  
“If I fuck a Guardian of the Galaxy, that make me an honorary member?”  
  
“ _What?_ No!  Don’t be disgusting.”  
  
Yondu snorted.  “Howzit disgusting?”  
  
“Firstly, we’d be overrun in a week,” Rocket said.  “Second, can you even imagine what Quill would bring home if that was the rule?  At least if it was just me we’d get some decent company.”  
  
“You sayin’ you got higher standards than Quill?”  
  
“Damn right I do,” Rocket said.  
  
“Guess I should be flattered.”  
  
“Guess you probably should be,” Rocket agreed.  “Or insulted that you raised someone with as poor taste as Quill.”  
  
Yondu snorted.  “Can’t teach ‘em everything.  What’chu starin’ at that for, anyhow?”  
  
Rocket glanced up.  “Thought maybe we could blow up the jump point and somehow get through it that way.”  
  
“ _Blow it up?_ ”  
  
Rocket shrugged.  “Why not?  Blowing up’s good for lotsa things.  Might reset us. Either that or we’d just get vaporized in the explosion and that’s better than starving to death or getting sucked into space as the ship falls apart around us.”  
  
“You really make it sound like we’re gonna get outta this.  Really ’preciate you takin’ the time to think of all the ways we could die horribly.”  
  
“It’s either that or look at your blue ass all day.”  
  
Yondu grinned.  “You could do that.”  
  
“My ass looks way better than yours,” Rocket said.  
  
Yondu looked at him, then brought his fist up and coughed, unsuccessfully hiding the blush.    
  
Rocket smirked at him.  “Well, I’m going to go make sure Groot’s watered.  Enjoy the rest of your watch thinking about my ass.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Rocket snickered as he waved on the way out. 

* * *

Rocket sighed as he climbed out of the crawlspace that went below the space-time bubble in the middle of the ship that was getting larger every day.  “We don’t figure something out, the center of our ship’s gonna get torn away from us.”  
  
Yondu raised an eyebrow at him.  “ _Our_ ship?”  
  
“You said I had a place on your crew,” Rocket reminded him, scrolling through different settings on his scanner.  “Way I see it, I’m half your crew already.”  
  
Yondu grunted.  
  
“Speaking of the rest of your crew,” Rocket said.  He found a setting he liked and jumped back into the crawlspace.  “You gonna tell Kraglin?”  
  
Yondu peered into the darkness where Rocket was crouching, running his hand over the empty spot in front of him that might as well have been a universe away for as well as they could reach into it.  “Tell Kraglin what?”  
  
Rocket snorted.  “You serious?”  
  
“What, you mean the fucking thing?”  
  
Rocked rolled his eyes.  “You got a real way with words, Ravager.”  
  
“Pretty sure he already knows,” Yondu said, making Rocket’s ears flick up.    
  
“What?  _How?_ ”  
  
“He got a nose, y’know,” Yondu said.  “And ears.  Y’ain’t exactly quiet.”  
  
“He’s on the _bridge_.”  
  
Yondu chuckled.  “I don’t think y’ understand how loud you can yowl, rat.”  
  
“Ugh.”  Rocket scowled at his scanner, then crawled back up into the hallway.  Yondu offered him a hand to help him up and Rocket dusted off his suit when he was standing, then adjusted it and rolled his shoulders.  “This thing’s useless, I gotta make a new one.  What’s beneath here?”  
  
“Storage, prob’ly.”  
  
“We should make sure that anything we might need to live gets put more to the outside of the ship,” Rocket said.  “Don’t like the way that thing’s growin’, ain’t very regular.”  
  
“Consider it done,” Yondu said, standing up.  “You got any better ideas than blowin’ us all up yet?”  
  
Rocket sighed.  “I really, really wish I did.”


	8. Chapter 8

“When are you gonna be done with that?” Yondu asked.   
  
“When it’s done,” Rocket said.  He tightened down one of the bolts on the scanner he was creating.  “Now that there’s enough samples of normal space-time in the ship, maybe this will show me how to find them and we can figure out what’s shifting back first.”   
  
“If ya say so,” Yondu said.  “Think it’ll help?”   
  
“Think it’ll help me figure out what’s going to change and when,” Rocket said.  “Then I can figure out how to stop it and control it. Maybe.”   
  
“That’s real confidence inspirin’.”   
  
“Hey, I may be a genius, but mostly I fly spaceships and make bombs.  Still teachin’ myself space-time physics.”  Rocket flipped the device on, tapping at the screen.  It lit up and Rocket held it up, pointed at the section with the normalized space-time molecules.  Readings began populating the screen and Rocket peered at them.   
  
“Anything?" Yondu asked.    
  
“Mm.  Not sure."  Rocket frowned at the screen.  “Maybe."  He sighed and flipped the screen off, rubbing at his eyes.  “Not that makes sense right now."   
  
“I know that look,” Yondu said, and jerked his head.  “C’mon, bed.”   
  
“You’re insatiable, you know that?”   
  
“I meant for sleep,” Yondu said.   
  
“Sure.”   
  
“Give ya my word as a Ravager,” Yondu said, and grinned at him.   
  
Rocket grinned in answer.  “That’s real confidence inspirin’.”

* * *

Rocket woke up with a scream echoing in his ears, bolting upright and grasping for something that wasn’t there.  He drew a breath, feeling like he was choking on the air, and realized that the scream he’d heard was his.  He gulped for more air, then felt a hand settle on his back, below where his implants stuck out from his body.  
  
“You okay?” Yondu asked quietly.    
  
Rocket nodded, and grasped the blankets, squeezing them.    
  
“Memories, or somethin’ else?”   
  
Rocket flinched.  “Memories,” he murmured.   
  
Yondu shifted, and drew Rocket down and against him.  Rocket rolled to face him, then huddled up against Yondu’s chest.  He felt Yondu’s surprised breath, then the Ravager’s arm moved around him.  Rocket sighed, and after a few moments, the tension left his body.   
  
“You was yellin’,” Yondu said.   
  
Rocket nodded.  Images that had briefly faded were too-vivid again, dredged up by the nightmare.  Lights above him, fuzzy figures in white, the cold _sharp_ of their knives.  “I never wanted to be made,” he whispered.   
  
Yondu’s hand squeezed gently.  “I know.”  There was a pause.  “I’d kill ‘em all if I could.”   
  
Rocket huffed a laugh.  “‘Preciate it,” he said, then lifted his head and before he could think his way out of it, licked the hollow of Yondu’s neck.   
  
He felt the Ravager’s body tense and his heartbeat speed up, and smelled a light tang that meant arousal.  But Yondu didn’t move other than to keep rubbing Rocket’s back.    
  
“‘S okay,” Rocket said, and licked that same spot again.  Yondu shivered and his hold on Rocket tightened.  Another few licks and Rocket stretched his foot out to rub against Yondu’s groin.    
  
“Damn, rat,” Yondu breathed, and Rocket switched from licks to nibbles.    
  
“Not gonna sleep for a while anyway,” Rocket said, between gentle bites.  “You?”   
  
“Now I’m not,” Yondu said, and reached down to the buttons on his pants.   
  
“Good,” Rocket said, and set about getting his own suit off.  When it was kicked away, he rolled over, and felt Yondu press up against him.   
  
“We ever gonna do this with you lookin’ at me?” Yondu asked.   
  
Rocket snorted.  “Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror?”  
  
Yondu pinched his ear and Rocket snickered, until Yondu made him moan, and then curse, then cry out with Yondu’s shout drowning out his own.   
  
When it was over except for the panting, Rocket turned back over and tucked himself against the Ravager, drowsily licking the same spot on his neck.   
  
“Wha’s the licking for?” Yondu asked after a while.   
  
Rocket paused, and stopped.  “Means I don’t find you as repulsive as other baldies,” he said.   
  
Yondu snorted.  “Quill been fillin’ you with sentiment.”   
  
“ _You’re_ the one who wanted to fuck while looking at each other.”   
  
“That ain’t sentiment!”   
  
“Then what is it?” Rocket asked, pricking Yondu’s chest with his claws.   
  
Yondu didn’t answer right away.  “Don’ know,” he finally muttered.  “But it ain’t sentiment.” 

* * *

Rocket moved his scanner back and forth, and grinned when the results came back exactly as he predicted.  “Figured it out, Groot,” he told the tree hanging onto his neck, watching with interest.   
  
“I am Groot!” Groot cheered for him.   
  
“Yeah, well, it still don’t mean we’re saved,” Rocket said, and started walking down the hall, watching the screen for any signs of anomalies.  “Just means I can see what’s shifting.  Pretty sure I should be able to see what’s _about_ to shift, too, if I can figure out how to scan for the absence of all molecular structures ... unless air would interfere with that but it shouldn’t, really, because that has a structure, just a kinda different one...”  He rambled as he walked, lost in thought and staring at his scanner.  “Right, Groot?” he finally asked, and when silence answered him, Rocket realized that the tree was no longer on his shoulder.  “Groot?” he asked, turning around.    
  
Silence answered him and Rocket watched, then shrugged and started back the way he’d been headed when he heard a faint shriek from behind.   
  
He whirled and started sprinting back the way he’d come, and heard one more cry, then silence.  “Kraglin!” he shouted, stopping and turning his ears, trying to hear any trace of the little tree.  “Can you get a read on Groot?”   
  
“He’s about two and a half levels below you,” Kraglin said after a moment.    
  
“ _What?_ ” Rocket started looking around for the nearest vent that would give him a path straight down.  “Hey isn’t that...”   
  
“It’s right above the engines,” Kraglin said.  “Yeah.”   
  
“ _Groot!_ ” Rocket shouted as he got into the walls and started his way down.  “Groot, hold on!”  There was another terrified cry as Rocket made his way down, and he finally swung out into the engine room, then was immediately scrambling for purchase to avoid falling right into their engine core.    
  
Their _open_ engine core.   
  
“Groot!” he shouted again, cringing back from the heat.  He held his hand up over his face so he could open his eyes all the way, peering through the breaks in his fingers.  He spotted Groot, hanging onto a support over the core, reaching for Rocket.  Rocket reached back, then felt the problem.  There was a space-time bubble around Groot.   
  
Rocket looked around, searching for for anything that might show him a way to get to Groot, whose smaller leaves were starting to blacken and smoke.  Alarms started going off, triggered by the heat.  Groot cried out again and Rocket pulled out his scanner, only to watch the screen start to warp.  He hadn’t used parts that could function in these temperatures.    
  
Groot tried to reach him again, crying.  Rocket inched to the side, feeling in front of him for any way through the bubble.  Groot saw him moving and twisted, and his vines slipped.  
  
“ _Groot!_ ” Rocket screamed, but it was drowned out by a piercing whistle as Yondu’s arrow shot in.  It hit the same barrier trapping Groot where he was, but Yondu changed its course to run the full length of the space around Groot, up and down, searching the entire area.  Groot struggled to get more vines around the beam, but Rocket could see that they were wilting and losing their strength.  He could only watch as the supports under the walkway Yondu stood on began to buckle.    
  
“Yondu!” he shouted.  “You have to get out!”   
  
Yondu shook his head, still whistling, and Rocket thought he was about to watch both Groot and Yondu die, when the arrow found an opening in the bubble.  Yondu sent it to Groot and the little tree grabbed for it.  Yondu waited only long enough to make sure Groot had a hold before bringing him back.    
  
Groot was immediately tucked into a pocket in Yondu’s coat and the Ravager waved his arm at Rocket.  “I got the twig!” Yondu shouted.  “Get out, Kraglin’s ready with the shield!”   
  
Rocket nodded and turned back to climb up, but the walls behind him were starting to soften from the heat.  The surface he stood on was part of the core containment, but the walls weren’t built to be exposed like this.  “Get Groot out!” he shouted at Yondu, when he looked back and saw the Ravager hesitating, then looked up at the climb.  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, and jumped up.   
  
Searing pain in his paws made him shout but he clamored up, feeling the metal sticking to him as he moved.  He escaped into the next level up, collapsing on the floor and shouting a curse at the pain.    
  
Footsteps coming towards him made Rocket look up to see Yondu with Groot.  The Ravager dropped down over him and Groot jumped to Rocket, throwing arms around his neck.   
  
Rocket got an arm around him, holding Groot close.  “What were you _thinking?_ ” he demanded.   
  
Groot started crying. “I am Groot!”   
  
Rocket shook his head.  “ _Tell_ me next time,” he said, then turned his head and snapped, snarling, as pain shot through him before realizing that it was Yondu touching his other hand.  
  
Yondu pulled back and Rocket’s ears lowered.  He looked away.  “Is the shield up?” he asked.   
  
“Core’s contained,” Yondu said.  “What happened?”   
  
Rocket shook his head.  “I don’t know yet.”  He shifted and hissed, then looked at his fur, realizing that the tips were singed.    
  
“Surprised you didn’ burn up,” Yondu said, and reached for Rocket’s hand again, gently prying his fingers open.  Rocket gritted his teeth as they looked at the burns and metal that was embedded in his paw.  “Got some good stuff for burns,” Yondu said.  “Gon’ hurt like a bitch to get this cleaned up but you’ll be fine in a few days.”   
  
Rocket pulled his hand back and curled it against his chest.  Groot reached up to touch his face.    
  
“You saved Groot,” Rocket finally murmured.   
  
Yondu shrugged.  “Wasn’t nothin’.”   
  
“No,” Rocket said, and reached out, ignoring the pain as he put his hand on Yondu’s arm.  “You coulda died, but you saved Groot.”  He tilted his head, and smiled.  “Welcome to the Guardians of the Galaxy.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Sentiment, I’m tellin’ ya,” Yondu said as he picked a shard of metal from Rocket’s paw.  Rocket hissed, fighting the urge to bite him.  “Save one twig and all of a sudden you’re inviting me into your club.”  
  
“Are you still hung up on that?” Rocket asked, panting.  “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to fuck your way in.”  
  
“That was just a question!” Yondu protested.  He wiped the mix of metal and skin off on a rag, then lifted a clean one to Rocket’s hand, pressing it there to soak up the fresh blood.    
  
“Sure it was,” Rocket said.  “I could--ow, _fuck_ \--I could go on, y’know.”  
  
Yondu lifted the cloth to check on the bleeding, then picked the tweezers back up and went for the next shard.  “I ain’t done nothin’ sentimently.”  
  
“You kissed me.”  
  
Yondu yanked the next piece out, probably faster than necessary.  “That was seein’ if y’ wanted to fuck.”  
  
“Yeah, ‘cept that usually sounds more like, ‘Hey, you wanna fuck?’”  
  
Yondu pressed the cloth back to his paw.  “Smartass.”  
  
“Idiot.”  
  
Yondu shook his head.  “Hold still a minute, think I got it all out.”  He set everything down and tilted Rocket’s hand back and forth a bit, looking for any more shards.  Rocket’s paw was crusted with blood and badly blistered from the burns, but besides that, looked clean.  “Righ’, keep your fingers open.”  
  
Rocket obeyed, holding still while Yondu opened a single-use pouch of burn salve with his teeth.  He spat out the top, then squeezed the paste onto Rocket’s paw.  
  
It _burned_ , making Rocket whine, but only for a moment before that faded into a cool relief.  Rocket slumped, and Yondu tied a bandage around the whole thing.    
  
“One down, three ta go,” the Ravager said, and Rocket held out his other hand with a sigh.  Yondu looked at him.  “I’ll say it once more.  Sure y’ don’ want anything?”  
  
“I’m sure,” Rocket said.  “Just get it over with.”  
  
Yondu nodded and started cleaning out the second paw and Rocket gritted his teeth.    
  
“Y’know,” he said after a while, “I’ve been thinking.”  
  
“Yeah I’d hope so.”  
  
Rocket lifted up his bandaged hand.  “You can’t tell but I’m flipping you off.”  
  
Yondu glanced at the hand.  “Yeah?  Real intimidatin’.”  
  
Rocket bared his teeth and growled.    
  
“Y’ bite me I ain’t helpin’ ya.”  
  
Rocket glared at him, shook his hand once more for emphasis, then lowered it. “Anyway I mean about when this mess is over.  I know a lot’s happened but you might remember your entire crew died.”  
  
“Yeah I remember that.”  Yondu grinned.  “You helped with the mutinous half.”  
  
Rocket smirked.  “Yeah.  Well my point is, you might need a place to be while you build up a new one.  So be a Guardian.”  
  
“Don’ think I’d fit in with your club,” Yondu said.  “An’ ain’t no way they’d let me on.”  
  
“Well,” Rocket said, “If they don’t agree, and you want, I’ll keep you company while you’re finding a new crew.”  
  
“See, Quill been rubbin’ off on ya,” Yondu said. He squeezed ointment onto Rocket’s hand, and rubbed a thumb over his wrist.  “Sentiment.”  
  
“Learned it from somewhere, didn’t he,” Rocket said, and smirked while he pretended not to notice Yondu’s startled look.  “Ya blue idiot.”  
  
“Smartass rat,” Yondu said, and even though he wasn’t looking, Rocket could hear the smile. 

* * *

Rocket roused when Yondu returned to their quarters after his watch, which was being split between him and Kraglin for a few days while Rocket didn’t have full use of his hands.  He frowned at the the logs in his lap for a moment.  He must have dozed off while combing through them, but had no memory of it.  Wrapped around his neck, Groot yawned.  “I am Groot?” he asked.  
  
“Must’ve,” Rocket said, and twitched his ears in greeting to Yondu.  He stretched, uncurling and sat up in the chair that Yondu had brought into the room for him to sit more comfortably in.  
  
“Engine looks good,” Yondu said.  “How’s the hands?”  
  
“Don’t hurt as much,” Rocket said with a shrug. He slipped off the chair onto the floor, and immediately cringed as his full weight came onto his feet.  
  
“I am Groot!” Groot scolded, jumping off his shoulder, at the same time as Yondu barked, “Hey!”  
  
“What?” Rocket protested, but didn’t have time for more than that before Yondu was scooping him up into his arms.  Rocket glared at the Ravager.  “You’re enjoying this.”  
  
Yondu rolled his eyes.  “Or maybe I’m sick’a these extra shifts.”  He set Rocket carefully down on the bed, his back against the headboard, then straightened.  “You need anything right now?”  
  
Rocket shook his head and Yondu took off his coat, then joined him and lay down with his back to Rocket and his head on the pillow.  Groot climbed up onto the bed and over him, crawling over to Rocket to cuddle up with his tail.  Rocket spared the little tree a small smile, then drew his knees up to rest his tablet against and pulled up the ship logs back up, starting his seemingly never-ending search for answers hidden in the data.  After a while he shifted, resting one of his arms above Yondu’s head.  Absently, he traced the scars there with the tips of his fingers, the only part of his hand that wasn’t wrapped up.  
  
“Got stuck in a hot net.”  
  
Rocket froze, then realized what he’d been doing and jerked his hand away.  
  
“‘S okay, don’t hurt,” Yondu said.    
  
Rocket hesitated, then put his hand back.  “How’d you do a stupid thing like that?”  
  
“They was part of a set of traps, I was on the front line,” Yondu said.   “‘Bout lost half my face, knocked me out cold.  Prob’ly saved my life.”  
  
Rocket followed the paths of the marks, feeling out the shape of the net.  “Next one killed everyone still standing?”  
  
“Acid’s a bitch of a way to go,” Yondu said.  “Thought these’d never heal up, but...”  He blew out a long breath.  “‘Least they don’t hurt.”  
  
Rocket turned off the tablet and set it aside, looking at the Ravager.  Questioningly, he trailed his fingers down, back, until he was almost touching the thick, angry scar of Yondu’s crest.  “Like this one?”  
  
Yondu reached up, curling his fingers carefully around Rocket’s hand and moving it away.  “Like that one.”  He rolled onto his back, looking up at Rocket, then reached up, fingers brushing over the studs that showed through the fur on his chest. “You feel these?”  
  
“Yeah,” Rocket said.  “If they catch on something.  Don’t really _hurt_ , though.  Ones in my back hurt.”  He huffed a laugh.  “What’s worse is I can feel the mistakes they made.”    
  
Yondu drew his hand away, then shifted to put his head more in Rocket’s lap.  Rocket returned to tracing over the scars with his fingers.  “Blue idiot,” he murmured, and felt Yondu’s smile.  
  
“Smartass rat.” 

* * *

Rocket grumbled to himself about the impertinence of undersized living foliage as he crawled through the ducts of their ship.  He was sick of being cooped up and getting chastised by either Groot or Yondu when he tried to go somewhere.  His paws were feeling a lot better, but he still had to sneak past Groot to get out of his room.  Otherwise, the little tree would just cry about it, and Rocket couldn’t stand that sound.  Plus, Groot would then just run and tell Yondu and Yondu would toss him back in bed and complain about long shifts, and then Rocket would have to start all over.  
  
So here he was, crawling through ventilation shafts.  It probably was better on his paws, with his weight on his elbows and knees, but that wasn’t the point.  The point was, Rocket was bored and needed to move around.  
  
First stop, of course, was the bridge so he could get a look at the ship’s readings for himself.  Sure he’d had them described to him with every shift change, but he wanted to actually see them.    
He heard voices, so both Yondu and Kraglin were on the bridge.  Rocket crawled to a small vent and peered through, looking around for the displays near the front.  
  
“--outta this,” Kraglin said.  
  
“He’ll figure somethin’,” Yondu said.  
  
“No offense, Cap’n,” Kraglin said, “But so far that’s all the rat’s said and all we got is a melted engine.”  
  
“He got a name an’ he _ain’t_ a rat," Yondu snapped, making Rocket’s eyes widen.  “An’ we’re alive, ain’t we?"     
  
Kraglin slumped in his seat.  “Even he says he don’t know how to keep us that way,” he muttered.  
  
Yondu was quiet for a long moment.  “Didn’ hurt,” he finally said.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“When he put in the new fin,” Yondu said, and shrugged.  “Didn’ hurt.  Even fixed the relay.”  
  
Rocket could see Kraglin’s head turn but couldn’t make out his expression. “That thing that made the arrow answer slow?  Thought that weren’t fixable.”  
  
“So’d I,” Yondu said.  “Dunno what he did, but it’s fixed, and it didn’ hurt.  Even told ‘im it would hurt and not to waste time tryin’ otherwise.  I’ve had god d’ast pros with drugs couldn’t do that.”  
  
Kraglin was quiet.  
  
“Point is, he’s got the best damn mind I’ve ever seen,” Yondu said, and Rocket felt a strange little flip in his stomach.  “We got any chance, it’s ‘cause he’s here.”  
  
“We wouldn’t _be_ here without him,” Kraglin said, and Rocket frowned, pulling back a little.  
  
“Wouldn’t be here without a lotta things,” Yondu said, looking at the other Ravager, a steely edge to his voice.  
  
Kraglin’s shoulders hunched, and after a moment he nodded.  “Glad he done right by you,” he said.  
  
Yondu stood and went over to the other man, clapping him on the shoulder.  “You done right by me, too,” he said.  “Weren’t your fault what happened, it was mine.  We’ll get outta this, and Imma fix it.”  
  
“You can’t bring them men back,” Kraglin said.  
  
“No, but I can bring ‘em home,” Yondu said.  “They’re still out there.  We’ll get ‘em, Kraglin.”  
  
Kraglin nodded.  “Yeah,” he said, voice thick.  “Yeah, we will.  Thanks, Cap’n.”  
  
Rocket watched for a few more moments, then shook his head and smiled to himself, and left the way he came.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come to start savoring their moments together.

As soon as he pulled the bandages off, Rocket started repairing the heat damage to his new scanner.  Thankfully it wasn’t much, just needed a few new circuits and a reinforced screen, and he had it up and running.  He took it to the core first to look for any other problems.   
  
Unsurprisingly, Yondu found him there.  “How’s the hands?” the Ravager asked.   
  
“Like new,” Rocket said.  From his shoulder, Groot waved at the Ravager.  “I gotta get some of that stuff from you.”   
  
“Handy to have,” Yondu said, waving back.  “So what happened down here?”   
  
“Best I can figure,” Rocket said, looking over the area, “Part of the containment shifted, and that made the rest of it vulnerable.  Groot said he came down here 'cause he could taste the ship melting, whatever _that_ means.  Should be okay as long as we can keep that shield up.”  He waved a hand at the shifted bubble in front of them.  “Whatever caused that, looks like it’s stopped moving.”   
  
“You got any idea what’s comin’ next?” Yondu asked.   
  
“That’s my next project,” Rocket said.  “And I’m pretty sure I know how it could be done.”  
  
He could hear a grin in Yondu’s voice.  “Knew you’d figure it out.  So whatcha got?”   
  
“Well, right now it’s an idea that requires a lotta parts we _don’t_ got,” Rocket said, scratching behind his ear.  He shook his head.   “Not to mention, messing around with this kind of thing while stuck on a ship with it isn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.”   
  
“Can’t be the worst, neither.”   
  
Rocket snickered.  “It’s definitely not the worst.  But I’m not gonna rush in with no escape plan with Groot here.  Gotta pilfer a bit more for this one.”   
  
Yondu snorted.  “Why am I not surprised.”   
  
“I’m open to new ideas,” Rocket said.  “Ain’t been many from the Ravager crowd aboard.”   
  
“Smartass,” Yondu said, rolling his eyes.    
  
Rocket flipped him off.  Yondu smirked, returned the gesture, then wandered out of the engine room.   
  
Rocket watched him go, then reached up for Groot and plucked him off his shoulder and set him in front of him.  He tucked his scanner back into his bag and dropped down to his knees, sitting back on his heels.  He scratched at the back of his neck and tilted his head, frowning, looking just past Groot.   
  
Groot cocked his head.  “I am Groot?”   
  
Rocket sighed and dropped his hand, then met Groot’s eyes.  “Tell me truthful,” he said.  “If he don’t stay with the Guardians, and I stick around with him for a while, would you be okay?”   
  
Groot’s eyes widened.  “I ... am Groot?”   
  
“Not forever!” Rocket said quickly, holding both hands out and leaning forward.  After a moment, Groot gave a slight nod and Rocket sank back, and crossed his arms.  “Probably.  I don’t know.  First we gotta get Quill away from ol’ deadbeat dad, and then...” He shrugged.  “I don’t know.”   
  
“I am Groot?”  
  
“There’s ... a lotta stuff I don’t know right now,” Rocket said.  His hand went back up to his neck.  “They’re probably still kinda pissed at me.  Dunno if they’ll even want me back.”  And didn’t _that_ suck to admit out loud, so he quickly shook his head and moved on.  “Look the point is, I’m not sure what’s gonna happen.  But I think I want that stupid smelly Ravager to be part of it.”   
  
Groot thought for a few minutes, frowning deeply.  Rocket waited, keeping silent as the little tree worked through all his thoughts.  Finally, Groot focused on Rocket.  “I am Groot?”   
  
“Of course you would!” Rocket said.  “I’ll make sure you see all of us.  And maybe Yondu will stick around anyway.”   
  
“I am Groot,” Groot offered, and put a hand on Rocket’s arm.  He tilted his head and looked up at him.  “I am Groot.”   
  
“I know we’ll figure it out,” Rocket said, giving Groot a half smile.  “Thanks, buddy.”   
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said, smiling brightly, and nodded. 

* * *

“Keep the readings on the core pulled up, too,” Rocket said.  “Looks steady but it wasn’t meant to run like this.”   
  
“We gon’ have a ship at the end of this?” Kraglin asked.   
  
“I can tell what’s shifted,” Rocket said, and scratched behind his ear.  “I’m trying to build something that could speed up the process to shift everything at once.”   
  
“So that’s a no.”   
  
“It’s a I’m fuckin’ tryin’ here!” Rocket snarled at him.  “How about I spend my off shifts drinking and _you_ learn space-time physics!”   
  
Kraglin held his hands up.  “Okay, okay.  Sorry.  Should I watch for anything particular?”  
  
“Same things you’d watch for anyway,” Rocket said, and turned to leave.  “C’mon, Groot.”   
  
Groot hung back.  “I am Groot.”   
  
“Fine, but you gotta stay on the bridge,” Rocket said.  He wasn’t letting Groot wander around anymore. “And don’t bother Kraglin.”   
  
“I am Groot!” Groot promised.    
  
“Don’t let him touch the controls,” Rocket told Kraglin.  “He’ll tell you he knows how but he don’t.”   
  
Kraglin gave him the same funny look that most people did when Rocket talked like they could understand his friend, but as far as he was concerned, it was their fault for not being able to.  Rocket gave Groot one more pointed look and turned to go.   
  
“Hey, Rocket?”  Rocket looked back and saw Kraglin looking at his hands.  “Cap’n’s seemed happier, lately.  To me at least.  Think it might be ‘cause’a, y’know.”   
  
Rocket frowned, shifting.  “How long you known?”   
  
“Prob’ly since the start,” Kraglin said.  “Y’ain’t the most subtle.”   
  
“Never been my strength,” Rocket agreed, before nodded in farewell to Kraglin and Groot and starting on his walk of the ship.  His scans showed no more unusual changes, and a steady rate of growth of the bubble in the middle that now stretched between two levels.  Rocket thought they had perhaps one more month to figure something out before the ship was torn apart.   
  
It was with that thought that he returned to the quarters he shared with Yondu, distracted as he curled up with the sleeping Ravager.   
  
After a few minutes, Yondu shifted and his hand curled around Rocket’s waist. “You up?” he mumbled.   
  
“Yeah,” Rocket said, and felt himself rolled onto his back.  Yondu moved over him and his mouth brushed against Rocket’s.  Rocket pushed into the kiss, then Yondu sat up and they both set about undressing in what was now a practiced rhythm.   
  
Then Yondu’s hand was on Rocket’s chest, pushing him back, and Rocket moved to roll over.  Fingers tightening around his shoulder stopped him and Rocket looked up.   
  
“Don’t turn over.”   
  
Rocket scowled at the Ravager.  “Why?”   
  
“Why not?” Yondu asked.   
  
Rocket glared at him and pushed his hand off, squirming away to sit up.  Yondu let him go and Rocket pressed his back to the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest.     
  
Yondu watched him, then lowered his gaze and shook his head.  “We’re prob’ly gonna die horribly any day now."   
  
“Yeah, insulting my ability to get us out of this alive is a _great_ way to--”   
  
“I wanna see your face,” Yondu said, glaring at the mattress.   
  
Rocket’s head snapped up and he peered at Yondu.  “What?”  
  
“Wanna see your face,” Yondu said again, with a shrug.  “I...”  He sighed and shook his head.  “Ain’t gonna look at’cha like them others did.”   
  
The words hit Rocket unprepared and he physically drew back, staring.  “ _What?_ ”  
  
“I get that there’s a type that’d wanna be with ya,” Yondu said, still refusing to look at Rocket.  “‘Cause’a the way ya look.  Wouldn’t wanna see ‘em lookin’ at me like that, either.”  He finally looked up, then reached out, carefully.  “Y’ain’t an animal.  Ain’t how I’m gonna look at’cha.”  
  
Rocket hesitated, looking at Yondu’s outstretched hand.  The Ravager’s eyes were on him, and as Rocket met them, he realized that it was true, Yondu had never looked at him like that.  He swallowed, then put his hand on Yondu’s and nodded.  His heart was pounding and tears pricked at his eyes, but when Yondu’s mouth pressed to his all the buzzing in the back of his mind faded and Rocket lay back.  Yondu pulled Rocket closer and moved slowly, his hands light as they stroked down Rocket’s front.  Rocket shivered and spread his legs over Yondu’s lap.  Hands settled on his hips and tugged him up, and Rocket closed his eyes, letting himself just _feel_ as Yondu prepared himself.   
  
“What’cha waitin’ for?” Yondu murmured, and Rocket looked up at him, then felt fingers on either side of the sheath between his legs.   
  
“I don’t...” Rocket murmured.   
  
“Y’ ever done like this before?” Yondu asked.    
  
Rocket wasn’t sure how to answer, and after a moment of silence, Yondu just nodded.   
  
“Stop thinkin’,” he murmured, and the warmth of his palm settled over Rocket.    
  
Rocket’s eyes slid shut and he tried to focus on Yondu’s hand instead of how vulnerable he was in this position.  Another hand settled on top of his head and Rocket pressed into it, then his breath hitched and his hips pushed up, and he felt Yondu’s skin against him.   
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Rocket hissed, grasping the sheets.    
  
“Tha’s more like it,” Yondu said with a soft chuckle, and very quickly, Rocket had something else to think about other than how much of his body was exposed right now.   
  
He heard Yondu moving around but didn’t think too much of it, at least until Yondu’s hand went away.  Rocket huffed and scowled, then felt--something else.  His eyes snapped open and he pushed himself up on one elbow, and yelped in surprise.   
  
Yondu glanced up, then frowned and lifted his head.  “What?” he demanded.   
  
Rocket stared at him.  “I-I--uh--”   
  
“Shut up,” Yondu said, and lowered his head again.   
  
Rocket didn’t know what to do, so he stared. At least, until Yondu did-- _something_ \--and his arm gave out, leaving him flat on his back.  Another _something_ and he arched up, hands going to either side of Yondu’s fin.  “Oh, _fuck_ ,” he managed, and felt as much as heard Yondu’s chuckle.   
  
When Yondu moved away, Rocket whimpered at the sudden loss of warmth.  Hands came to rest on his hips and he was tugged back into Yondu’s lap, heart pounding in his ears, racing in his chest.   
  
When Yondu pushed inside, Rocket opened his eyes to find the Ravager looking right at him.  His breath caught and he reached up to hold onto Yondu’s arm.  Yondu gave him a half-grin, but it faded quickly as his breath grew heavier, faster.  They both kept their eyes open, not fully looking at each other, but never looking completely away.  Other than Rocket’s occasional sounds, they were silent, until Rocket couldn’t keep himself from asking something he’d been wondering for a while.   
  
“You rememberin’ someone?”   
  
Yondu stilled, gaze focusing on him, before his hand moved to Rocket’s face.  “Not anymore,” he said, and jerked his hips forward.   
  
Rocket cried out and his body arched up, claws digging into Yondu’s arm.  Yondu grunted over him, then shuddered, spilling into Rocket’s body.  Rocket whined, squirming on Yondu’s cock as it pulsed inside him, then Yondu thrust forward again.  Rocket gasped and Yondu’s fingers wrapped around his length and stroked, and Rocket came in his grasp.   
  
It left him a shivering, twitching mess when it was over, and the sensation of Yondu drawing back drew a whine from him.  Gentle hands rolled him to his side, and Yondu lay down in front of him.  Rocket felt utterly spent, and decided to clean later. “Fuck me,” he murmured, with a bit of a grin as he pressed up against the Ravager.   
  
“Pretty sure I just did,” Yondu murmured, breath tickling Rocket’s ear.    
  
Rocket kicked him, making Yondu chuckle.  He lifted his head to lick Yondu’s neck, and Yondu’s hand settled on the back of his head, stroking.  An act that would get most bitten, from Yondu it bled out the last of the tension in Rocket’s body and he slipped into sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."_
> 
> \- Kahlil Gibran

Rocket fiddled with an ill-fitting piece on the underside of their armed-to-the-bolts stealth ship.  He felt like he was close to figuring out how to manipulate their shifting through time on a mass scale, but he’d reached a logical impasse and decided to tinker with their stealth ship for a while to relax and clear his mind.  He tried jimmying the piece loose, but it wouldn‘t come free in his hand. “Gimmie a torch,” he mumbled around the screwdriver held in his mouth.  He held his hand out, and felt something that was definitely not a torch.  Was that a rag?  He sighed.  “The _torch_ , Groot.  The thing that makes fire.”  
  
“I am Groot!”  
  
Rocket glanced to the side to see Groot stomping his foot and scowling.  
  
“It’s not going to put _you_ on fire!”  Rocket took the screwdriver out of his mouth and squirmed back out from under the ship.  “Honestly.”  He started rummaging through his things for a torch.  
  
“ _Rocket!_ ”  
  
The shout over the comms came about a half second before the ship’s alarms starting blaring.  Rocket felt a lurch under his feet.  He scrambled up and grabbed Groot, putting him on his shoulder before going to all fours and sprinting towards the bridge.  “What happened?”  
  
“Hull pressure warnings, looks like half the ship is getting pulled away!”  That was Yondu, now, on the bridge with Kraglin.  
  
Rocket cursed, then slammed into a wall of nothing and skidded back.  His eyes widened as he realized where in the ship he was and he grabbed his scanner.  The entire area in front of him had shifted, and it was growing.  
  
Not fast enough.  
  
Rocket darted sideways and got into the wall, climbing up, looking for a way around.  “What are the readings?” he asked.  
  
Yondu read the numbers to him and Rocket’s heart sank.  “Ship ain’t gonna survive this,” he said.  “We gotta try to blow the jump.”  
  
“How you suggestin’ we do that?” Kraglin asked.  “Weapons ain’t respondin’.”  
  
Rocket paused, then cursed again.  “We need something with a lot of firepower,” he said, and scrambled back down the way he’d come.  “Still got control of the cargo doors?”  
  
“Still got that,” Yondu said.  
  
Rocket’s claws scraped the floor as he ran.  Groot was clinging to him, silent, and Rocket could feel the little tree trembling.  He skidded to a stop at their stealth ship and jumped inside, firing up the engines and yanking off the control panel.  “When I tell you, open the cargo doors,” he said, hacking into the ship’s control system to give him remote access.  It probably wouldn’t help but he wanted to have it.  They hadn’t been able to move, stuck against their bubble, but they were sitting right against the jump and atmosphere in their ship might just give the smaller one enough momentum to move back.  “I’m setting the coordinates in the stealth ship, and I’ll do a manual destruct when it breaches the jump.  Hopefully it can get that far.”  
  
“We need that ship!” Yondu protested.    
  
“We ain’t gonna have it,” Rocket said.  “Think of something else.”  
  
“Got an old mining rig,” Kraglin spoke up.  “Good amount of firepower on it.  Pretty sturdy, used it for the A’askavarii job.”  
  
Rocket knew the one, he’d briefly thought about transferring the whole drilling system to their stealth ship but the drills would have been too heavy for that hull.  “Perfect,” he said, and routed an option of the stealth ship’s controls up to their bridge, just in case.  “Anything in cargo you need before we blow this open?”  
  
“Nothin’ important in that one,” Kraglin said.  
  
“‘Cept the ship,” Yondu added.  
  
“We can’t have everything we want,” Rocket said, jumping out.  It hurt to think about all the weapons that were about to be lost, but their last hope was the strength of this explosion, so he forced himself to leave them all there.  He briefly considered throwing the batteries into the mix, but too strong and they could get caught in the blast, too.  
  
“How do we know it ain’t just gonna blow us up too?” Yondu asked, finalizing Rocket’s decision on the batteries.    
  
He shrugged.  “Don’t.  But it’s blown up or torn apart, or maybe get outta this.”  He ran for the bay doors and got on the other side, locking them.  “We’re close enough to the jump that it should be able to just reach it.  Get ready.”  He pulled out his tablet and requested permissions into the ship’s monitoring systems.  “Open bay doors.”    
  
Rocket heard the sound of the doors sliding open, followed by the faint roar of everything being sucked into space.  He watched the position of the ammo ship moving away from them, hardly daring to breathe, then saw it start to move through the jump.  “This is it!” he yelled, and triggered the stealth ship’s self-destruct.    
  
Everything was silent for a long moment, then the ship groaned and Rocket felt it start tilting.  He pulled up exterior views and saw the lights of the jump expanding, flickering, enveloping them.  As they were engulfed, the groaning grew louder and Rocket could only watch and hope that they would survive.  
  
Then the explosion dissipated and everything was still.  The alerts silenced.  
  
“Got thruster control!” Kraglin reported.  “Hull pressure normalized.  Approaching the planet!”  
  
Rocket started running again, finding his way to the bridge clear.  There wasn’t time to be relieved that they’d survived yet, they still had a pissed off planet to deal with and Guardians to save.  “Get that rig ready!” he called.  “Where should I meet you?”  
  
“Deck ten, forward,” Yondu answered, and Rocket changed course to get there.    
  
Yondu was striding towards the rig as he got there.  Rocket followed him up to the hatch and slid down the ladder, pulling out the transponder that had been silent since the other Guardians had left with Ego.  He pinged the Guardian he thought would be most likely to know what was going on.    
  
“Rocket?"  
  
Hearing Gamora’s voice made Rocket laugh with a desperate relief. “Keep that transmitter nearby so I can find you,” he said.  “We’re in an old piece of construction equipment Yondu once used to slice open the Bank of A’askavarii.”  
  
“Ego’s unhinged,” Gamora said.  
  
“I know,” Rocket answered.  “Get ready.”  
  
Yondu strode towards the controls.  “Drop ‘er, Kraglin.” Rocket climbed into the chair next to him as Yondu flipped on the engines.  
  
“You got ‘em?” Yondu asked.  
  
“Got ‘em,” Rocket said, patching his transponder into the ship’s console and bringing up Gamora’s location. “Head towards that signal.  If anyone knows what needs to happen it’ll be Gamora.”  
  
“She with Quill?”  
  
“Didn’t ask, but she’s our best bet.”  
  
“Gal’s useful in a pinch, huh?”  
  
Rocket smirked.  “You got no idea,” he said.  They entered the planet’s orbit with a bit of a wobble and Rocket glanced over.  “You get enough sleep for flyin’ this thing?”  
  
Yondu gave him a sour look.    
  
“Hey, it’s my ass too if you crash,” Rocket said with a shrug.  
  
“Be a lot easier flyin’ if someone hadn’t gouged me last night,” Yondu said, tapping his chest over where Rocket’s claws had _pulled_ over his skin.  Rocket glanced his way and suddenly he was back in that moment, shouting and arching up, feeling Yondu’s muscles straining under his fingers as every part of his body came alive--  
  
He looked back at the controls and snorted.  “I did not _gouge_ you, you wuss,” he said.  “Besides, Mister Wanna-See-Your-Face, it’s your own damn fault.”  
  
“Can’t help it,” Yondu said, grinning.  “You got a cute lil’ nose when it goes all crinkly.”  
  
“You must want bluer balls than you already got, old man.”  
  
“Who you callin‘ old, ya brat,” Yondu said as he flipped on the atmospheric stabilizers.  “Approaching," he added, and Rocket started scanning the surface for Gamora.  
  
He spotted a structure in the area the signal was coming from and pointed to it.  “There.”  
  
“I see it,” Yondu said, turning that way.  “Get on the drills, we gon’ need a sharpshooter.”  
  
“On it,” Rocket said, and climbed down, going to all fours as he ran that way.  He swung into the drill controls and Groot climbed down to his lap, peering out.  Rocket pulled up a focuser, looking through the large window on the front of the the structure, and saw...  
  
“You seein’ this?” he asked, staring.  
  
“I’m seein’ it,” Yondu growled, and the ship’s thrusters fired, taking them right towards the window.  Rocket braced himself for the impact and grabbed Groot to keep him from flying forward.  As they smashed through the window he heard Yondu‘s shout of, “Hey there, jackass!”  
  
Their ship hit right over Ego and skidded, then stilled.  
  
“Who taught you how to land?” Rocket demanded.  
  
“Slavers,” Yondu deadpanned. “They ain’t good teachers.”  
  
“No kiddin’,” Rocket said, and swung around in his chair as the loading dock opened.  The first thing he heard was Drax complaining,then from further away, Gamora chastising Quill for being a moron, and for just a moment, he couldn’t have been happier.

* * *

When the twister of shale dissolved around him, Rocket braced for the fall and landed hard on the rock.  He took just a moment to catch his breath, then gritted his teeth and looked around.  He briefly spotted Quill-- _flying_ \--and got to his feet.  He took a step, head lifted to look for the others, then quickly jumped back as something threatened to cut into his paw.  
  
Yondu’s arrow, broken in two.  
  
Rocket cursed and checked the timer for the bomb.  It still hadn’t started, but maybe Groot had been just as held up by Ego’s interference as everyone else.  Rocket grabbed the arrow pieces and stuffed them into his bag, then fired up his aero-rig and flew to the core, peering uselessly through one of the larger tunnels.  “Groot!” he shouted.  “Groot, if you can hear me, hurry up! I’m not sure how long Quill can keep him distracted! Groot, hurry!”  He looked around again, spotting Gamora and Nebula climbing out.  Drax had already gone up with Quill’s aero-rig and the weird bug girl.  That left him, Groot, Quill, and Yondu.  Quill was easy to keep track of, but Yondu took a few moments of searching.  The man was just standing there, watching Quill.    
  
“Freakin’ moron,” Rocket muttered, then his timer beeped.  He stopped breathing, half expecting to be incinerated, then slowly looked down.  The timer was counting down.  His ears went up and he looked back into the core.  “Groot, follow my voice!” he shouted, and backed up to get a better look at all the possible exits.  
  
While he was waiting, still shouting out so Groot would know where to find him, he continued to glance around the area.  Something shining caught his attention and he squinted, then hissed a curse.  
  
Quill’s helmet.  
  
Rocket frowned.  
  
Quill was the only thing keeping Ego engaged.  No doubt he would stop the bomb otherwise.  Thankfully he didn’t seem able to be in two places at once, but it meant Quill would need to be here when the bomb went off.  
  
There was an answer somewhere, but he was missing a piece.  
  
Groot emerged about half a minute later and Rocket grabbed him and put him on his shoulder, then flew down to the Ravager Captain who still hadn’t moved.    
  
“Yondu!” he yelled over the explosions.  “We’re about to blow!”  
  
Yondu shook his head.  “Get to the ship.”  
  
Rocket waved him off, looking around for Quill again.  They needed Quill to distract Ego until the bomb went off, or Ego might stop it.  Quill had given his aero-rig to Drax.  Rocket had one spacesuit stowed away in his bag.  The third quadrant didn’t have a space tow.  The ship needed to be far enough from the planet when it exploded.    
  
None of it was adding up.    
  
“Not without Quill,” he said, the crux of the problem.  There _had_ to be some way to get that stupid human safely onto their ship.  Maybe Rocket could catch up with the fight and hope Peter would notice him enough to take the spacesuit, and maybe he would still be able to fly after Ego was destroyed, but probably not--  
  
“You need to take care of the twig,” Yondu said, and Rocket looked at him.  
  
A beat passed, and Rocket frowned.  
  
He needed to take care of the twig, because if he stayed and saved Quill, only one of them would have a spacesuit.  Yondu had to realize that.  Which meant--  
  
Rocket’s body went numb and a buzzing sound started creeping into his mind.  
  
That was the piece he’d been missing.    
  
“Not without _you_.”  
  
His voice broke as he said it.  Everything clicked into place in those three words, the answer, the only way Quill was getting off this planet alive.  The buzzing grew into a dull roar.     
  
“I ain’t done nothin’ right my whole damn life, rat,” Yondu said.  “You need to give me this.”  
  
They stared at each other, then Rocket bit back a sob and reached into his bag.  “A spacesuit and an aero-rig,” he said, and gave them to the Ravager.  Their fingers brushed and Rocket backed up, knowing that if he touched Yondu again, he might not be able to let go.  “I only have one of each.”    
  
Yondu looked at them.  There was only one option offered there, but his expression never faltered.  After a moment, he nodded.     
  
Rocket dug his claws into his arm.  His throat felt tight. “I...”  
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said, from Rocket’s shoulder, and Rocket’s breath caught.  
  
Yondu’s eyes met his.  “What’s that?”  
  
Rocket couldn’t hold the gaze and he looked away.  “You know what it is,” he said, voice breaking.  
  
Yondu was still for a moment, then he nodded.  Rocket started to turn to go.  
  
“Rocket.”    
  
Rocket ears flicked up and he froze.  Yondu was looking at him, brows furrowed.    
  
“You’ll say it someday,” Yondu said.  “To someone.  ‘Cept the twig don’t count.”  
  
“Yondu--”  
  
“ _Promise_.”  
  
“I ... I promise,” Rocket managed, and wiped at his eyes.  “What about you?"  
  
“Wha’bout me?"  
  
“If I gotta promise,” Rocket said, “So do you.”  
  
Yondu’s mouth turned up in a small smile.  “I’ll say it t’ my boy,” he said.  
  
Rocket smiled through his tears and nodded, and when Yondu reached for him, he didn’t resist.  The Ravager’s arms closed around him and Rocket hugged his neck, burying his face there and inhaling deeply.  A hand came to rest on the back of his head.  
  
“You’ll be alrigh’,” Yondu murmured.  He took a deep breath and let it back out, then his mouth pressed against Rocket’s fur.  “Don’t push ‘em away.”  
  
Rocket’s shoulders shook and he nodded.  “Blue idiot.”  
  
“Smartass rat.”    
  
The planet cracked around them and the timer counted steadily down.  
  
“Get goin’,” Yondu murmured before Rocket was ready.  Rocket nodded, licked Yondu’s neck one more time, then forced himself to lift away. Yondu’s hands lingered on him as long as they could as Rocket moved out of reach, and then they were gone, and Rocket didn’t look back.  
  
As he flew up, he glanced in Groot’s direction.  “How could you possibly know that?” he asked, and Groot answered by hugging his neck.  
  
Gamora, Nebula, and the bug girl were still in the loading bay when he got there and Gamora looked up as he landed.  “Where’s Peter?” she demanded, rising. “Rocket, where is he?  Rocket!  Rocket _look at me!  Where is he!_ ”  
  
Rocket couldn’t look at her, staring at the countdown.  The numbers meant Yondu was still alive down there, for just a little longer.  He tried to answer Gamora, tried to tell her what was happening, it would be okay--nothing was going to be okay but Peter would be okay--but the words stuck in his throat and all he could do was shake his head.    
  
Gamora’s eyes widened.  “No,” she said, grabbing a weapon and going towards the exit.  “I’m not leaving without him.”  
  
Rocket didn’t even think.  His blaster was in his hands and he barely needed to aim to take her down.  As she crumpled, twitching, Rocket took a shuddering breath.  “I’m sorry,” he said, and the words felt like glass in his throat.  “I can’t lose anyone else today.”  And before he could dive out himself, he looked up.  “Kraglin, go!”  
  
Drax’s voice came through on the comms, shouting, desperate, and Rocket watched the door close.  Kraglin still hadn’t said anything.  
  
Did he know?  
  
Rocket looked at Nebula, who stared back with those eerie dark eyes of hers.  Groot climbed up his back to his shoulder and Rocket made his way to the bridge.  
  
Drax and Kraglin were both there, and when Rocket saw the fury in Drax’s eyes, he pulled Groot off and set him down.  “Stay there,” he said, and took two steps forward.  
  
That was all the distance needed before Drax roared and charged him, and Rocket didn’t avoid the blow that sent him into the wall.  As he crumpled, no real will to get back up, he saw Kraglin start to rise with a hand going towards his gun.  Rocket held his hand up and Kraglin froze.  
  
“It’s fine,” he said, holding his shoulder where Drax had hit him.  He met Kraglin’s eyes, and realized that yes, the other Ravager knew what was happening.  “Yondu--” His voice broke.  “Yondu’s getting him.”    
  
Drax’s eyes widened, and Groot ran in front of Rocket, holding his arms out.  “I am Groot!” he shouted, and kept himself between Drax and Rocket as Rocket made his way over to the viewport.  He pressed himself against it, barely breathing as he watched the planet start to implode and hoped for something, _anything_ , that would let this end with a loud blue idiot back on the ship where he belonged.  
  
But when the dust and light of the explosion started to settle and their ship was able to stabilize, Rocket knew too much time had passed.  It didn’t stop the thrusters from firing, taking them right back into it.  
  
“Anything?” he asked Kraglin, who was scanning, fingers flying over the controls.  Debris surrounded them.    
  
“It’s ... it’s all reading as organic,” Kraglin said, and the man sounded sick.  “I can’t pick ‘em out.”  
  
Rocket sank down to his knees, huddling against the plexiglass.  
  
The bridge was silent as they searched.  Even Groot, who usually peppered Rocket with questions about the ship’s functions, just curled in Rocket’s lap and looked out with him.  
  
“Found ‘em,” Kraglin said, and even Drax jumped a little, startled by the noise.  
  
“Is Quill alive?” Rocket asked.  
  
“Looks like.”  
  
The other question was left unspoken, and answered the same.  
  
Rocket shuddered, and nodded, and forced himself to his feet.  “C’mon,” he told Drax.  “Ain’t got a space tow, we gotta go get ‘em.”    
  
Drax followed him to the suit-up area.  As they were pulling on the helmets, Gamora appeared in the doorway.  
  
“You shot me,” she said, voice flat.  
  
“For your own good.”  
  
“How could you have trusted Quill’s life to that honorless Ravager!”  
  
Rocket felt his fur bristle, hidden by the suit, and he gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t bite her.  “We’re getting Quill,” he growled at her.  “Get out of the way.”  
  
She stepped aside, and Rocket fought against the urge to shoot her again.    
  
Drax reached Quill first.  Rocket watched him try to coax the human away from Yondu’s body, but Quill fought him.  With no transmitter the human couldn’t be heard, but Rocket could tell he was shouting, sobbing, clinging to the Ravager who had, in the end, given him everything.  
  
Drax finally got Peter to let go and moved back towards the ship with him.  It left Rocket floating there, alone, staring at the corpse.  Yondu’s hands were up, like they’d been on Peter’s face as his last breath froze in his lungs.  Rocket forced himself to breathe and maneuvered over to him, then pressed his helmet to Yondu’s forehead.  “You d’ast idiot,” he whispered, to no one, gripping Yondu’s coat.    
  
He looked at the Ravager’s face, into frozen, clouded eyes.  Memories of the Ravagers executed the same way rose up, unwanted, and he knew exactly what this death would have looked like.  His stomach rolled and he already knew those eyes would haunt him in sleep.  
  
If he ever slept again.  
  
When he finally made it back to the ship, when the doors closed and gravity returned, Yondu’s body fell with a dull, echoing _thud_.  Rocket landed on his feet but immediately doubled over, fighting to not vomit right there.  
  
Quill was there in moments, running to Yondu’s body, and Rocket shed his suit and fled.  He knew this ship better than any of them now and he wedged his way into the most remote corner he could think of and grabbed his head in his hands and finally let himself scream.    
  
When Groot finally found him, his arms were soaked with blood from where his own claws had torn in.  The little tree wrapped as many vines around him as he could, with tears in his eyes.  
  
“I--I can’t--” Rocket choked.  
  
Groot was silent for a long time, holding Rocket as he shuddered.  Then, slowly, with great care, Groot spoke.  
  
“He ... was ... Groot.”  
  
Rocket sobbed until he passed out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The soundtrack to this chapter, should you like one, is: 
> 
> _Homesick_ by Dua Lipa  
>  _I Have Questions_ by Camila Cabello  
>  _What About Us_ by Pink

When he first roused, it was to a throbbing head and hurting eyes.  Rocket reached up to rub at the salt that was crusted on the finer fur of his face and took a shuddering breath, then felt fresh tears.  
  
Why had the Makers given him the ability to cry?    
  
He opened his eyes.  Groot was still there, holding onto his tail, asleep.  Rocket shifted and the pounding in his head increased.  He hissed and held a hand up to his forehead, then smelled the blood on his arm.  He vaguely remembered clawing into his own arms in a desperate moment to feel _anything_ other than the ache in his chest.  
  
Another throb in his head made him whimper.  He wasn’t sure if he’d ever hurt like this before, and he hated it.  He hated everything.  
  
“I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket looked at the little tree, and god, for just a moment, he even hated Groot’s presence.  He didn’t want to talk to anyone.  He shook his head.  
  
“I am Groot?” Groot pressed.  
  
“Leave me alone!” Rocket shouted, and immediately regretted it when Groot’s eyes went wide and started tearing up.  He stared back, but before he could even attempt to think of a way to fix it, Groot scrambled up and ran away.  “Groot--!” Rocket reached after him, but the movement made his head pound and he choked back a sob and curled in on himself.    
  
He stayed there, unmoving, then told himself he had two more minutes to sit there feeling sorry for himself before he had to make himself move.  He wanted to be alone, but he could at least feel like a person first, and he hoped a shower would help.  
  
He crawled through the vents and was relieved to find the showers empty.  He could stand in the spray with tears running down his face without anyone seeing him.    
  
He stayed for longer than he’d meant to, but he finally reached up and turned off the water.  He stood there without moving, shivering, and realized all he wanted to do was curl up in the bed that would smell like Yondu and stay there for as long as he could, surrounded by their blankets and his scent.  The longing was sudden and strong enough that he put his hand on his chest, feeling winded, and he blinked quickly to clear his eyes.  He didn’t want to cry again until he could bury his face in a pillow that smelled like him.  
  
He shook off and grabbed a towel, rubbing it over his fur until he was dry enough to pull his suit back on.  He climbed back up into the vents and crawled, barely thinking about where he was going until he reached the grate above the room he’d shared with Yondu and started working at the screws.  He glanced idly into the room, then froze.    
  
There, stretched out on the bed, was Peter Quill.  He was laying on his back and staring at the ceiling with a hand on his chest, looking like he owned the place.  He didn’t seem to have heard Rocket, even without his headphones.  
  
Rocket felt frozen there, staring at him, struggling to keep his breath steady.  He wanted to leave, to be anywhere else but here, but he couldn’t turn his head away from what little he could smell.  If he just curled up here and closed his eyes...  
  
But he could already smell Peter Quill.    
  
Peter Quill, breathing, warm.  
  
Rocket wiped quickly at his eyes and crawled away from the room.  As he retraced his path, he tried to think of somewhere else he could go.  It felt so strange to have more than double the amount of people on their ship now, and while Rocket was glad they were here, he didn’t want to see any of them right now.    
  
He took a shuddering breath and stopped, and watched his tears drip onto the metal under him.  He sank down and curled into a ball and choked back a sob.  
  
How much could one person cry, anyway?  

* * *

Eventually, Rocket made his way to the bridge.  He peered through the grating, and felt strangely relieved to see only Kraglin there.  Of everyone available, the remaining Ravager was the only one whose company he thought he could handle.  
  
He jumped down into the room.  Kraglin glanced over, then lifted a hand in greeting.  Rocket mirrored him, then felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the man’s puffy, red eyes.  Of course Kraglin had been crying, he’d just lost his Captain and friend and, really, his entire family, but here he was, watching their fragile ship while Rocket hid uselessly in air vents.  
  
“How’s the ship?” Rocket asked.  It was a familiar greeting now.  
  
Kraglin shrugged.  “She flies now.  Engine ain’t melted.”  
  
Rocket nodded and climbed into the chair next to him.  “What’s everyone know?”  
  
“Told Pete ‘bout the mutiny, an' they all know the engine’s slagged,” Kraglin said.  “No one’s asked why.  Ain’t gone through any jumps yet, thought prolly best not to.”  
  
“Yeah,” Rocket said, and pulled his knees up to his chest.  “We shouldn’t go through any until the containment’s fixed.”  He scratched at his wrist and the stinging wounds there.    
  
Kraglin nodded and they sat together in silence for a while.  
  
“Don’t feel real,” Kraglin finally said.  
  
Rocket could only nod.  
  
“Listen, I’m gonna ... go lay down for a while,” Kraglin said.  “Can you watch?”  
  
Rocket nodded again and waved him off, then twisted around when he heard the door.  “Kraglin?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Rocket hesitated, frowned, and looked at the floor instead of the Ravager.  “You know any empty rooms I could use?”  
  
He heard Kraglin stop, then take a few steps back in.  “Quill took the Cap’n’s room, huh,” he said.  
  
Rocket cringed, then nodded.  
  
“Yeah.  That was Tullk’s, he were a good friend of the Cap’n’s."  Kraglin sighed.  “You wan’ I should kick his ass?”  
  
Rocket huffed and rubbed at his eyes.  “Nah.  He don’t know.  I just ... want somewhere to be that wasn’t someone who mutanied.” He risked looking up.  
  
Kraglin had a strange look on his face, but he nodded.  “There’s a few,” he said.  “Prolly take Oblo’s.  He liked guns.  Comm me when y' done an’ I’ll show ya which.”    
  
Rocket nodded and scratched behind his ear.  “Thanks,” he said, and then Kraglin was gone.

* * *

Kraglin showed Rocket to Oblo’s quarters later, punching the controls to open the door.  “Ain’t much,” he said, as the small room was revealed.  “But it’s somethin’.”  
  
“It’s enough,” Rocket said.  He looked around.  He’d glanced in here before during patrols, but he’d never asked whose it was or really _looked_ at it.  “Hey, Kraglin?”  
  
Kraglin grunted.  
  
“You know what they’re gonna do about a funeral?”  
  
Kraglin crossed his arms and frowned.  “Ain’t asked. Pete said somethin’ ‘bout it, figure he’ll tell us.”  He blinked quickly.  “He’ll do right by ‘im.”  
  
Rocket nodded and Kraglin left.  Rocket watched him go, then went inside and locked the door.  There was a small bed and a dresser, and like the room he’d shared with Yondu, it was scattered with a small amount of personal belongings.  From what he’d seen, the Ravagers had used their rooms as much as not, and the little cubbies mostly seemed to be for storage of what few personal items they’d owned.  This one was no different, and had a gorgeous antique blaster on the wall.  Rocket actually smiled for a moment; Kraglin had picked a good space for him.  
  
Rocket climbed up onto the bed, then unclipped his belt and took his bag off, dumping everything onto the mattress.  The whole thing was a mess after Ego and he hadn’t stopped to take inventory or organize anything, and that was a task he felt capable of right now.  
  
Odds and ends and tools all spilled out, and right there, in the middle of the pile, were the two halves of Yondu’s arrow.  
  
Rocket blinked, staring at them, and his vision went watery.  He hissed a curse and rubbed at his eyes, biting down on the impulse to cry.  He was determined to hold himself together for at least a few hours.  
  
He picked up the pieces, looking carefully at the break.  An easy enough fix, and he could keep the arrow functional with a little extra work.  He looked back to the pile, grabbed a screwdriver and his sladon, and started working.

* * *

When the arrow was finished Rocket realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and he could just _hear_ Yondu berating him for it.  He sighed.  He wasn’t going to sleep, that much he knew, but he could probably eat.  
  
He packed his bag up and went to put the arrow on the small table next to the bed, then hesitated, and tucked it into his bag.  As he placed it there, careful to nestle it between everything else, his fingers lingered and for a moment, he thought he felt warmth in the metal.  
  
He choked back a sob, squeezed his eyes shut, then jerked his hand out of the bag and slammed his fist into the wall as hard as he could.  
  
The wall didn’t move, his hand hurt, and Rocket blew out a breath.  
  
“Feel better now, dumbass?” he muttered, then shook his hand and headed to the mess.  
  
Gamora and Nebula were both in there, clutching mugs and sitting in silence.  They looked at him when he stepped in and he realized that he still had no idea why Nebula was here unrestrained.  He felt his hackles start to rise, but Gamora smelled calm to him, so he forced himself to settle.    
  
There was a fresh pot of something with stimulants in it so he busied himself with preparing a mug before joining them at the table.  Nebula stood as soon as he did and left without a word.  Gamora watched her, then turned back to peer at Rocket.    
  
Rocket took a few laps of his drink and tried to ignore her.  When he glanced up, she was still looking.  Rocket growled at her.  “What?” he demanded.  
  
“You know your way around this kitchen very well,” she said.  
  
“Ravagers got to Berhert right after you left,” Rocket said.  
  
“And between being a captive and committing a massacre you had time to explore this quadrant’s kitchen?”  
  
“It’s a flarkin’ kitchen, not a fusion engine!” Rocket snarled at her. “How long does it take to figure out a kitchen!”  
  
Gamora raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything.  
  
They sat together in silence for a while before Rocket pushed his drink away.  “I shouldn’t’a shot you,” he muttered.  
  
The corners of Gamora’s mouth turned up, ever so slightly, and her eyes softened.  “I should not have doubted your judgment,” she said.    
  
Rocket huffed.  “Damn right.”  
  
Gamora stood up and crossed over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  “It is good to have you home, Rocket,” she said, before leaving the way Nebula had gone, and leaving Rocket frowning in confusion.    
  
Why would she call this home?  
  
He reached into his bag and felt the arrow again, then pulled it out and sat it on the table so he could see it.  Somehow that seemed to help, just a little, so even though he felt stupid he left it there.  
  
He was still looking at the arrow when he heard footsteps behind him, then smelled Quill.  He had showered recently.  
  
“Hey,” Quill said, and Rocket lifted a hand without turning around.  “Gamora said you were in here.  Haven’t seen you since the planet, you okay?”  
  
Rocket nodded.  
  
“Okay,” Peter said.  “I looked around, there should be enough food in here for us to get back to a trading post.  Kraglin said the engine’s damaged so we can’t use space jumps, have you looked at it yet?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“I can fix it,” Rocket said.  “But we’re gonna need a port for it, and material.”  
  
“Okay,” Peter said.  “We’ll find one.  We’ll find the units.”  He sighed, and Rocket heard him shift.  “Gamora told me ... you knew what Yondu was doing?”  
  
Rocket mostly kept the growl in his throat. “Yeah, and?  He made his own choices, got it?  I couldn’t’a stopped him, and there wasn’t any other way!”  
  
“Whoa, hey, that’s not what I’m saying,” Peter said, and moved over behind the chair that Gamora had been sitting in before.   Rocket realized that Groot was on his shoulder, holding onto Peter’s lapel and watching Rocket.  Peter sighed and Rocket’s attention shifted back.  “I just wondered if he said anything to...”  
  
Rocket saw the moment Quill realized what was on the table.     
  
“Is that--”  
  
Peter’s eyes were getting brighter, and Rocket swallowed.  “Yeah.  I...” Damn it, now the human looked like he was going to start crying.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.  
  
He shoved the arrow across the table and it rolled out of his reach.  
  
“Found the pieces,” he muttered.  “Didn’t think it was right to leave ‘em there.”  
  
“Rocket.”  Quill’s voice had that stupid watery sound that always happened when he was being emotional.  “ _Thank you_.”  He took the arrow and held it gently, like it would fall apart if he wasn’t careful, and Rocket wanted to claw him for it. “I found a site not too far from here that should work for a funeral.  It’ll take another few days but I think Yondu would have liked it.  You can come, if you want.”  
  
Rocket nodded and Quill left with both Groot and the arrow. Rocket listened to them go, wondering why it felt like Peter was walking away with the only part of Yondu he’d ever been able to fix.  
  
His wrist felt warm and he looked down to see that he’d dug his claws back in and torn himself open again.

* * *

He worked up the courage to visit Yondu’s body the morning of the funeral, in his own way.  He pulled up the last connection holding the vent cover in place and pushed the whole thing aside, getting a good look into the cargo bay.  They had kept the area vacuum sealed until about an hour ago, protecting the body from starting to rot.  
  
Peter and Kraglin were both in there now, apparently doing some kind of Ravager thing.  There was a nearby table with all sorts of bits of colorful fabric and Yondu’s baubles and they were murmuring to each other, voices too low for Rocket to make out what they were saying.  
  
Kraglin nodded and reached over, pulling Yondu’s shoulder up, and Peter started pulling off the coat.  Rocket realized with a start that they were undressing him to prepare him for the funeral.  He wanted to back away, but he couldn’t move.  
  
Piece by piece, Yondu’s clothes were pulled off, folded carefully, and set aside.  When Yondu’s shirt was pulled away, Rocket heard his heart in his ears.  On his chest were two sets of scratches,standing out against the pale, clammy skin.  Kraglin was staring at them.  
  
Quill, however, was smiling, and wiped at his eyes, then started laughing.  “Good ol’ Yondu,” he said.  “Always hooking up with hot, feisty women.”  
  
Rocket felt his face heat.  Kraglin grimaced, but Quill didn’t seem to notice.  His smile faded and he reached out to touch Yondu’s fin.  
  
“Is Stakar...”  
  
“Ain’t no one comin’,” Kraglin said, and grabbed a sponge to start cleaning his Captain.

* * *

Rocket wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at the comms controls.  There was a single frequency entered, blinking, waiting for him to initiate the connection request.  At the other end, of course, was the man who had freed Yondu from slavery.  Given him a home, and a life, and a family.  Despite everything, Yondu had still thought of him as family.  That much was clear from the way he’d talked about him.  Admittedly, Rocket didn’t understand the meaning of the colors that Ravagers used during their funerals, but he knew Yondu would not be given any.  
  
His claw tapped on the console and a growl came from his throat.  Fuck them and their code.  Yondu had never intended to cause harm, and once he’d realized, he’d risked everything to save one stupid boy.  
  
Rocket’s breath came faster.  Eventually, he’d given everything to that boy.  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut but it didn’t help.  When he opened them again, the comms controls were fuzzy and he wiped uselessly at the tears on his face.  
  
“I ... am Groot?"  
  
The inquiry from behind him was soft, and Rocket took a startled breath before turning around.  Groot was there, and he froze when Rocket looked at him, staring back with wide eyes.  
  
“Hey, buddy,” Rocket managed, and reached out to him.  
  
Groot scampered forward and climbed right up to Rocket’s neck, arms going around him.  Rocket reached up and curled a hand around his back.  
  
“I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” Rocket whispered.  
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said.  
  
“Yeah but that’s no excuse.”  
  
Groot nuzzled under Rocket’s chin and was quiet for about a minute.  “I am Groot?”  
  
Rocket sighed.  “Yondu had a friend who’s mad at him.  I think he might not be as mad if he knew what he did.”  
  
“I am Groot!”  
  
“Ain’t that easy,” Rocket said.  
  
Groot frowned.  “I am Groot?”  
  
“It’s ... Yondu did something bad,” Rocket said, trying to think how to explain.  “He didn’t mean to.  And he tried to make it right.  But he still broke the rules so they had to kick him out.”  
  
“I am Groot,” Groot said.  
  
“Yeah, kinda like that,” Rocket said.  “Only they didn’t kick me out.  They didn’t even...”  He rubbed at his eyes and felt a vine behind his ear.  It was like the batteries hadn’t even happened.  Not a word from Quill or Drax.  Gamora had welcomed him _home_ , whatever that meant.  There was still time, but Rocket was starting to think they weren’t going to hold it against him.  
  
It was a strange feeling.  
  
Fuck Stakar.  Family should always be there.  A growl rose up in Rocket’s throat and he punched his claw onto the consol, opening up the connection. They might not change their minds, but they were going to fucking _listen_ to him.

* * *

After the funeral, Rocket stayed on the bridge as everyone else dispersed and he found himself surrounded by the familiar hum of the third quadrant’s systems.  Not really thinking about it, he pulled up the hull pressure readings and left them there, settling in.  About a minute later, he realized what he’d done, and started to laugh.  
  
The laughter very quickly turned into more crying, though, and Rocket curled up in the chair, shivering and hiccuping as the newest bout of tears wore themselves out.  The ache in his head and his eyes, which had never really gone away, started to reassert itself.  He wanted to hear footsteps and a boisterous laugh and a gravelly voice trying and failing to pronounce the technical terms in the ship’s logs.  
  
Instead, the third quadrant hummed away.  
  
When the tears dried, Rocket rubbed at his face.  He would need to shower again to get the salt completely out of his fur, but he didn’t feel like moving yet so the self-wash would have to make do.  He pushed himself back up in the chair and looked at the control panel where he’d first started going through the ship’s logs.  With everything else, the question of how to manipulate the space-time around them had faded to the back of his mind, but it was still there, itching.  
  
He’d felt close to an answer.  With enough time he might have gotten there.  Now, of course, he could pull up real-time data and even design specs for space jumps, and solve the riddle within minutes.  
  
_Knew you’d figure it out._  
  
He hadn’t placed it then, but there had been real pride in Yondu’s voice when he’d said it.  Rocket frowned, torn for a moment, then pulled up the ship’s data dumps from old jump accesses.  He’d been over every line already, but he went back to the oldest entry and started reading.  
  
When he heard footsteps, it was almost like everything was normal again, until he looked up and the stars were different.  He knew the rhythm, though, and placed Kraglin before he could even smell him.  
  
“Hey.”    
  
Kraglin came around and plopped down into the chair next to him.  “Hey.”  He scratched his nose.  “You called ‘em?”  
  
Rocket nodded.  
  
Kraglin swallowed and nodded.  “Thanks,” he said, voice cracking a little.  “Can’t tell ya what it woulda meant to the Cap’n.”  
  
“Wish he coulda known,” Rocket murmured.  
  
“Yeah.”  Kraglin was quiet for a while.  “Listen.  ‘M not gonna tell anyone.  Ain’t my story to tell, and don’t change nothin’ for me whether folks know.  Changes hell’a lot for you, though.”  
  
Rocket exhaled, feeling a shudder down his spine.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Thanks.”  He huffed, a small, bitter laugh.  “Not sure if anyone would even believe me.”  
  
“Was kinda nuts,” Kraglin said, a hint of a smile in his voice.  “Look, you wanna tell folks, I’ll back ya up.  When y’ ready.”  
  
Rocket nodded.  He heard Kraglin rustling around and glanced over in time to see the man pulling a flask from inside his jacket.  He almost asked for some, but bit the question back.    
  
Then Kraglin pulled out a second flask and held it out.  Rocket stared at it, then reached out and took it.  His eyes met Kraglin’s and he saw nothing but understanding there, and Kraglin gave him a faint nod.  
  
“I know,” the Ravager said, and Rocket settled back into his chair with the flask.  
  
Except for passing out from exhaustion from sobbing for too long, he hadn’t slept.  He got the top of the flask off and the first swallow burned more than he expected, but even just feeling that was a relief.  He was so tired, but nowhere felt safe enough to sleep anymore.  Peter Quill occupied the only space he could imagine trying to sleep in.    
  
The next several sips were smaller, now that he was expecting the sludge-like consistency.  It was cheap crap, but he’d give it one thing: It made him brave enough to ask a question he’d thought would have more time to be asked, and to someone else entirely.  
  
“Kraglin?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“He said somethin’, ‘bout, there bein’ someone else once, wondered if ya knew...”  
  
“He ain’t never had no one else like that what I saw,” Kraglin said.  “‘Cept whores, maybe.”  
  
“Think it mighta been a guy,” Rocket mumbled.    
  
“Never seen ‘im with another fella.” Kraglin sounded puzzled.  “Seen 'im lookin’ but that’s all.”  
  
Rocket nodded and took another swig.  It had been a long shot, and he wasn’t surprised.  At least now he knew there would never be an answer to that question, and he could really lose himself in the drinking.  
  
When his vision started to swim, he belatedly realized how little he’d eaten, but couldn’t bring himself to care.  Everything finally felt dulled, and he would take whatever amount of relief he could find right now, even if that meant flirting with the line of poisoning himself with liquor.  
  
That was the last thought he could remember before waking up wedged behind a wall panel, somewhere above the bridge.  The flask was empty next to him and his vision was blurry and he felt sick, but all of that was fine because it was something other than the pit in his stomach and the longing to hear a steady heartbeat in a solid chest.  
  
He lay there for a while, willing his eyes to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time.  It had been a while since he’d drank enough to lose time like that, and his thoughts still felt fuzzy as they wandered.  He’d always hated losing time, it felt too much like being put under, never knowing what would be new when he woke up, knowing that the Makers had taken that time from him. Time that still existed, even if he couldn’t access it.  He’d been part of it all along, but on this side of things, he’d never be able to reach it. Like being trapped on one side of a moment and knowing you were frozen, and to get to the other side of it you’d just have to be able to _reach_...  
  
Rocket’s eyes widened and he bolted up, and slammed his head into a beam.  He hissed, cursing, as the throbbing in his head went all the way down his spine, but started squirming his way up and out of the wall.  His bag wasn’t with him, so it was probably on the bridge, and he needed something to write with.  
  
He dropped into the bridge from a ceiling vent and heard a startled squeak and squinted in that direction.  Right, the bug girl was still here.  He muttered something like an apology and snatched his bag from where he’d left it and darted out, running back to the room he was using now.  He already had a datapad in hand when the door opened and was tapping in formulas, humming and muttering under his breath.  He didn’t even make it to the bed, just sat down on the ground with his back to the door, lost in his work.  
  
When he next looked up, his headache was gone, his stomach felt settled, and he stared at the wall across from him for almost a minute before looking back down.  
  
The design on the screen, covered with notes and formulas, could manipulate an object’s relationship to the space-time around it, on a molecular scale. It would work.  
  
It _would_ have worked.  
  
He let his head thud back into the door and blinked his eyes quickly to clear them before everything could go out of focus.  His headache was coming back and his stomach turned.  
  
It would have worked.

* * *

It took him three days to build the thing.  He could’ve done it in less, but part of him didn’t want to prove that it worked.  That part was drowned out by needing to know for certain, so he’d stalled, but it was still built.  All with things he poached from the ship, its engines, and his sladon.  Turns out a space jump wasn’t all that different from the technology in a sladon in some ways.  It was taking apart and then reassembling something’s molecules, and squeezing them through a controlled wormhole in between.  That was the space part.  The time bit had been trickier to build and he couldn’t freeze something in time, exactly, but he could slow down a molecular rhythm enough that it might as well be.  
  
He turned the device over in his hands, then set it aside and secured it.  
  
Well, something like that, anyway.  
  
Rocket was perched outside the ship, mag-locked to the hull.  He’d come outside for the test--successful, watching an orloni frozen in a little atmosphere bubble was interesting--and now he didn’t know what to do.    
  
So he could’ve unfrozen them without destroying the stealth ship.  Would it have changed anything?  All the guns might not have made much difference against Ego.  Without the drills, they might not have been able to get far enough into the core for Groot to find his way though. Of course, with the stealth ship and the option of the mining craft maybe they could’ve come back, regrouped, and returned with smaller numbers for a focused attack.    
  
_And more spacesuits_ , Rocket’s mind whispered.  
  
And, if he was being honest with himself--and out here surrounded by the deep cold of space, he figured he might as well be--if Quill hadn’t been such a headstrong freaking _hero_ \--  
  
Rocket growled a curse.  Ego couldn’t have done more damage without Quill.  Why, _why_ did he have to go and try to save the freaking galaxy all half-cocked and without a plan?  They could’ve regrouped, they could’ve been somewhere else for the Sovereign, they could’ve...  
  
They could’ve kept their blue idiot safe.  
  
His next breath was harsh. “Are you happy now?” he asked up at the stars.  “Your idiot kid’s safe and sound and you’re some big goddamn hero and I’m... I’m...”  
  
Rocket didn’t know what he was.    
  
_Kid did it right_ , he heard, and even though he knew it was just his mind still working at a puzzle when he wasn’t thinking about it, it sounded like Yondu.    
  
It was probably good that he couldn’t drink with a spacesuit on, because he felt like he was a bottle and a half behind where he wanted to be right now.  
  
There was no saying if they’d left that they would have ever had another chance at Ego’s core.  How was one supposed to sneak up on a planet, anyway?  Especially one that probably could have surrounded its entire being with that ore.  And if they hadn’t been able to, Ego would have hunted Quill and the Guardians across the Galaxy.  Along with the Sovereign, the Kree, and without the support of the Ravagers who were now making their presence known.  
  
“Fuck,” Rocket whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms.  His hands clenched into fists and only the spacesuit kept him from digging his claws into himself.  “ _Damn it._   God--”  He lifted his head and the stars swam and he couldn’t even try to stop the sob.  “Well I hope you’re _fucking_ happy!” he shouted into the emptiness.  “You strut in like you own the flarkin’ galaxy and you make me--you make me l--"  He choked on the words.  “So what am I supposed to do now, you flarkin’ loser!  Yeah that’s right, I said loser, ‘cause you’re just like us and you should _be_ here, this woulda been your freakin’ family 'cause we’ve all lost stuff--and I’ve lost--I’ve lost-- _damn it_ \--and you had to go and blow it by saving the day and _now_ what am I supposed to do!"  
  
Utter, consuming silence answered him.  
  
Rocket moaned and grabbed his head in his hands.  “I don’t know how to do this,” he choked.  
  
He felt like the flarkin’ butt end of the universe’s worst joke.  
  
“What about me?” he whispered.  
  
Nothing.   Rocket shuddered and curled up.  
  
He stayed there until he was so cold his body ached, then stood, shivering, and looked at the device.  His mind had felt somewhat settled, but just looking at it brought the swarm of questions back up.  Rocket cursed and shook his head and made up his mind.  
  
He freed the orloni from its time prison and put it back into the ship through a maintenance hatch, where a pile of grain was waiting for his test subject as an apology.  That done, he turned his attention to the device and flipped open the cover.  A few wires were swapped around, and the code instructed to ignore overheating.    
  
At the last moment, Rocket hesitated, clutching the device to his chest.  Was he really going to destroy one of his creations?  
  
But when he looked at it, he saw hours of combing through logs while Yondu teased him, heard Yondu’s voice brimming with pride when his first scanner worked, smelled the Ravager Captain’s sweat as he cleared out closets in the path of the creeping bubble, felt his heartbeat as he worked on designs while relaxing against his chest, and woven through it all, the terrible, endless questions whispered and buzzed, _could it have saved him..._  
  
Rocket pressed a button and let go.  
  
The device drifted away from him, and about a minute later, exploded with a small flash.  
  
“Rocket, are you okay?”  
  
Rocket’s head snapped up before he realized it was Gamora over comms.  He activated his, heart racing. “Why?” he asked, bracing himself.  
  
“Sensors detected a small explosion near you.”  
  
“Oh.”  Part of him was disappointed.  “Yeah.  Just clearing some crap from the hull.”  
  
“Okay. Drax is going to have dinner finished soon, and he wanted me to make sure you don’t stay out there for too long.  According to him, you will get too cold and subsequently die.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.  I’m comin’.”  Rocket flipped his comms back off and sighed.  He looked at the stars for a few more moments.  
  
_You’ll be alrigh’_.  
  
Rocket shook his head.  “You were wrong, old man.”  
  
_Don’t push ‘em away._  
  
Rocket squeezed his eyes shut.  “ _Shut up_.”  
  
_I’ll say it t’ my boy._  
  
Rocket opened his eyes to look at the stars, then lifted a single hand to flip them off.  “Hope you’re happy now, ya blue idiot,” he said, then climbed back into the ship.  

* * *

Two weeks after the funeral they were still traveling to a dock the Guardians trusted while avoiding all jumps in their fragile ship. The newly-named Quadrant had become a quiet place and most days, Rocket felt like he was suffocating just walking through the halls he’d shared with Yondu.  
  
His entire body ached and he shifted in his chair, pulling up the ship’s functions for the dozenth time in just as many minutes.  He knew, realistically, that he probably hurt so much because he hadn’t truly slept since Yondu’s death and he was barely giving his body anything more than alcohol to stay alive.  He sometimes nodded off when he was supposed to be on watch, he passed out from drinking, and a few times he’d managed to doze, but the nightmares that rose up when he was sober made it impossible to truly rest.    
  
He still wanted to go try.  He could feel the implants more than normal right now, and if nothing else, his bed was a little softer than the chairs on the bridge. But Quill was late for his turn at the helm.  
  
“Quill,” he snarled into his comms, “Get your ass up here.”  
  
“Dude, you don’t need to be so pissy about it.”    
  
That wasn’t from the comms, though, it was from the door behind him.  Rocket twisted around.  “Where have you been?” he snapped.  
  
“I lost track of time, you jerk!” Peter shot back.  “God, you have no idea what we’re going through right now, cut me some slack!”  
  
Rocket’s ears flattened.  “What do you mean by _that?_ ”  
  
“I mean I just lost my dad and some of my best friends and Kraglin lost his entire family,” Quill said.  “And besides, I was going to ask you to take this watch anyway, I just forgot."  
  
Rocket bared his teeth.  “No.”  
  
“Fuck, man.”  Quill rubbed at his face.  “Are you really that heartless?”  
  
“Oh, like I haven’t lost anything?” Rocket snarled.  
  
“Sure, you knew him for, what, a day?”  
  
Rocket’s heart thudded.  “Ain’t takin’ your watch you stupid humie,” he growled, climbing out of his chair.  “Man up and do your fuckin’ work like the rest of us.”  
  
“Fuck you, man,” Peter said as Rocket walked past.  “You have no idea.”  
  
Rocket almost shot him.

* * *

Rocket knew he had to figure out how to tell Quill after that.  If he’d been drunk, he might have actually gone for a weapon.    
  
He waited until Peter was alone on the bridge at night and joined him, looking around the space. How many times had he sat here laughing with Yondu about stories of Peter as a child, or missions gone wrong, or the differences between Ravager and raccoon farts. Peter was standing in the same place Yondu often had, arm over his head and leaning on the viewport, looking out at the stars. Rocket swallowed and stopped next to the controls. He gripped the armrest. “Quill,” he said, startling the human, who hadn’t heard him approach. He waited until Peter was looking at him, then walked forward to stand next to him. “We gotta talk.”  
  
Peter waved a hand at him to go on. Rocket hesitated, then took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and exhaled. He lifted a hand up to the plexiglass of the viewport and stared out into space, just _remembering_ for a moment.  
  
_\--hand between his ears, laughter surrounding him, his stomach hurting because he couldn’t stop laughing, tears in his eyes and the feeling of breath on the back of his neck, mingled shouts and knowing that the man looking at him was seeing_ him _and nothing else--_  
  
Then he let his hand drop and he forced himself back to the present.  
  
“It’s about Yondu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more chapter after this. I very badly wanted to make this the ending, but I just couldn't do that to Rocket.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are at the end. It has been a while since a single piece consumed me like this, and I'm a bit sad to see the end here. Thank you so much to everyone who joined me for this one, I cannot tell you how much your comments and kudos have meant. If you enjoyed this work, even if you're reading it years after it was posted, I would love to hear from you. <3 
> 
> By the way, if anyone wants to use this fic or just its concept, please know that not only am I completely okay with that, I would truly be flattered. I would just ask you mention this one, and of course I'd love to know! (That is not saying someone should write a fix-it, nope, nuh-uh.) But in seriousness. I know there are limited places in this movie for this 'ship to flourish without shattering canon, so this idea is completely up for grabs. 
> 
> And now, onward.

“It’s about Yondu.”  
  
Peter frowned down at Rocket. “What about him?” he asked.  He sounded defensive.  Rocket couldn’t blame him.  
  
“It’s ... it’s kind of a strange story,” Rocket said. He looked straight out. “When we came out here to get you, I didn’t know how far it was. We went through 700 jump points.” Peter didn’t say anything. “Dunno if you’ve ever heard of getting trapped after too many jumps?”  
  
Peter shrugged. “Yeah it’s like an old pirates’ tale, ain’t it?”  
  
“No,” Rocket said. “It happens. Happened to us.” He sighed. “We got stuck for about four months.” He heard Peter turn to look at him. “At least, that’s what it felt like to us. Just a second to you.”  
  
“What’s it got to do with Yondu?” Peter finally asked.  
  
Rocket swallowed. “We ... spent a lot of time together,” he said.  
  
“What, did he tell you all the embarrassing stories of me as a kid?” Peter said. “Great, Rocket, really great, that’s a real comfort right now.”  
  
Rocket didn’t say anything, and after a moment, he heard Peter shift.  The silence pressed down around them.  
  
“What do you mean, spent a lot of time together?” Peter said.  
  
Rocket had to swallow again against the lump in his throat. “We got close,” he managed.  
  
“Close, like...” And he heard Peter’s sharp breath when the human realized. “Did you _sleep_ with him?”  
  
The shock in Quill’s voice made Rocket feel so small and he nodded.  
  
“ _How?_ ”  
  
Rocket’s head jerked up and he stared at Peter for a moment, then his hackles raised and he snarled. “The fuck do you mean, _how?_ ” he demanded.  
  
Peter stared back, then seemed to realize what he’d really said. He lifted both his hands. “Sorry, that’s not what ... I just ... didn’t think you’d really be each other’s ... types?”  
  
Rocket continued to glare at him, a low growl coming from his chest.  
  
“I guess I mean,” Peter said, “Isn’t there, I guess, some kind of, you know ... species thing?”  
  
“Species thing?” Rocket repeated, and took a step towards Quill. The human quickly took one back. “You wanna fuck half the aliens you meet, isn’t that some kind of species thing?”  
  
“No!” Peter said. “That's--you know, it’s--”  
  
“ _I am not an animal!_ ” Rocket shouted, hearing those same words in Yondu’s voice ringing in his ears.  
  
Silence.  
  
“I’m a _person_ , Quill,” Rocket continued when the human didn’t say anything. “You get that, right? Like you understand? I’m a person and guess what, I like a lot of the same things that a lot of people do!”  
  
“I...” At least Quill looked properly ashamed. “That came out wrong.”  
  
“Then make it come out _right_ ,” Rocket snarled.  
  
Peter exhaled and nodded. “I know you’re not an animal,” he said. “I know you’re a person. I’m sorry. I just never really thought about ... that. I’m sorry.” He looked away.  
  
After a moment, Rocket forced himself to step back, unclenching his fists. “Fine.”  
  
There was a long, long silence.  
  
“Okay,” Peter said, running his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Starting over. I wouldn’t have expected that. How ... Or, I guess ... How close...” He trailed off.  
  
“How many times did I fuck him?” Rocket suggested, voice flat.  
  
Peter winced. “Something like that. Like was it a one-time thing, or...”  
  
Rocket looked back out at the stars. “It was ... If he didn’t join up with the Guardians, I was going to stay with him. And I think he wanted the same thing.”  
  
Peter nodded and gave a low whistle. “Okay,” he said.  
  
They stood in silence for a while, just looking out.  
  
“I’m sorry, man,” Peter finally said. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Rocket rested his forehead against the viewport and closed his eyes. “So am I.”  
  
After a while, Peter sighed. “Man, what a dick, though,” he said.  
  
Rocket frowned, then looked up at Peter, peering at him. Peter looked back, then his eyes widened.  
  
“Er--not like--that’s not--” He coughed. “What an asshole, I mean. Wait, no, fuck--oh god dammit, not fuck--fucking hell--”  
  
“Stop before I shoot you,” Rocket said, and Peter’s mouth snapped shut. “I get it,” he said, and shook his head with a huffed laugh. “He _was_ a dick.”  
  
“A fantastic, stupid blue dick,” Peter said.  
  
Rocket barked a laugh, and nodded as he rubbed at his eyes. “In more ways than one.”  
  
“Gross, dude.”  
  
“Don’t make me shoot you.”  
  
“You keep threatening that, someday you’re gonna have to do it.”  
  
Rocket took in a deep breath before letting it go, feeling his tail sag. He rested his forehead against the viewport and closed his eyes. He heard Peter sit down next to him, then after a moment, glanced over. The human had his hand outstretched.  
  
Rocket’s first instinct was to bite at it, or insult Quill, maybe both. But Yondu’s face, his voice, the way he’d held himself when talking about the Ravager family he’d lost, the way everything would brighten for just a moment before fading again... Yondu had died thinking that his family wouldn’t even care that he was gone. They had, in the end, but Rocket wished more than anything that Yondu could have _known_.  
  
If Rocket didn’t change something, he might end up dying the same way, alone and thinking no one loved him. That was the safe option. _Love_ was frightening.  
  
But if, somehow, Yondu could see him, and he turned down this moment...  
  
_Don’t push ‘em away._  
  
Well, he would have a stupid blue ghost farting in his bed for the rest of his life.  
  
So instead, Rocket reached back, and Quill’s fingers wrapped around his hand. Tears welled in his eyes and he quickly wiped at them while Peter pretended not to notice, other than to rub his thumb over the back of Rocket’s hand. Rocket let out a shaky breath and settled on the ground.  
  
They sat together for a while.  
  
“Can you ... tell me something?” Rocket asked.  
  
“Anything, man,” Peter said.  
  
“Right before he... He made me promise...” Rocket didn’t know how to say it. “He wanted to know that someday, I’d be able to say--something--” He cringed. “He told me he’d say it to you. Just, I wanted to know...”  
  
“He said a lot of things,” Peter murmured. “You gotta be more specific.”  
  
Rocket drew his knees up and buried his face in his free arm, unwilling to look at Peter. “Did he say he loved you?”  
  
Peter’s breath caught, then stilled, for just a moment. Rocket heard him swallow.  
  
“Yeah, man,” Peter managed to say. “Yeah. He did.”  
  
Rocket nodded, and smiled, even as more tears went down his face.  
  
“So you gotta say it now?”  
  
“Someday,” Rocket said.  
  
“Hopefully not to me.”  
  
Rocket punched Peter’s arm, getting a yelp of protest. “You wish.”  
  
There was a beat of silence, then, “I mean ... you could, you know,” Peter said. Rocket frowned at him. “There’s more than one kind of love.”  
  
Rocket looked away.  
  
“You’re not ready,” Peter said. “That’s okay. We’re here for you. Just know that.”  
  
Rocket nodded again, then moved closer and leaned against Peter. The human was still for a moment, then wrapped an arm around him.  
  
“You should tell the others, you know,” Peter said after a while. “Or I could. They don’t get why you’re being such a turd. I didn’t until now. They would understand, about Yondu.”  
  
“I’ll tell them,” Rocket said. “I can do that, at least.”  
  
“Want me to gather everyone up tomorrow?”  
  
Rocket sighed. “Yeah, sure, why not. Except not that weird bug girl.”  
  
“Rocket, we’ve talked about Mantis. She’s not a weird bug girl. Kinda like how you’re not a puppy.”  
  
Rocket muttered under his breath about how Mantis was definitely a weird bug girl.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“Nothin’,” Rocket said. “Thanks for listening.”  
  
“Always. How are you doing?”  
  
Rocket didn’t answer right away, thinking over his response. How was he doing? He wasn’t sure. He’d never lost someone he cared about like that before. Companions through the experiments, Groot in a way, work partners, but nothing like this.  He’d managed a little sleep, always with nightmares, but he‘d also stopped crying every time he woke up.  What was that supposed to mean? “Dunno,” he finally said, the most honest answer he had. “Is that ... okay?”  
  
Peter shrugged. “I don’t think anyone really knows what’s supposed to be okay for something like this. I’m just doing one day at a time.”  
  
“Yeah,” Rocket said, and looked over his shoulder at the chair Yondu had liked. He could almost hear the Ravager’s laughter. He looked back up at Peter, the boy Yondu had given everything for so he could be here. The boy Yondu had loved, even if he couldn’t say it until the end. The boy who was still _alive_.  
  
Rocket’s best friend.  
  
Something eased inside him.  The ache wasn’t gone, and it probably never would be, but his next breath felt just a little bit easier. “Yeah, me too.  Hey, Quill?”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
“There’s one more promise I gotta keep,” Rocket said, and for a moment, it was like he could feel Yondu smiling at him. “Only the thing is, this one ain’t mine.”  
  
“Whose is it?” Peter asked.  
  
Rocket smiled, just a little.  “It’s your dad’s.”


End file.
